Nature of the Wolf
by Jaxin88
Summary: The Dimension Cannon's working, but the last place Rose expected to land was Herefordshire in 1913.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The hustle and bustle of Torchwood London's research and development division barely registered to Rose as she and Mickey stared at his glowing monitor.

She took a deep breath and glanced at her oldest friend. "You're sure, Mickey? It's stable?"

"Sure as I can be, babe. The signal's been transmitting from that spot for the past few weeks, even if it is a bit weak."

"The past few _weeks_?" She stared at the screen. "Oh, Doctor, what happened?"

Mickey leaned closer, his dark eyes sparkling. "You wanna find out?"

Rose's stomach dropped like a roller coaster. "You mean...?"

"It's working, Rose. We did the first run of tests last week, and Jake came back just fine."

"Wait, Jake tested it first?" Her jaw clenched, and she shifted in a blink from a lovelorn young woman to Torchwood's formidable top agent. "Mickey Smith, I've put my blood, sweat and tears into this project, and it was agreed that _I_ was going to lead the testing. I can't believe you had Jake do it. He could've been injured, or worse!"

Mickey's eyebrows climbed and he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed defiantly. "An' I can't believe you thought we'd let you be the guinea pig. Rose, you might not give a damn whether or not you get hurt, but there are people around you who do."

She glared at him. "You went behind my back, Mickey."

"Actually, it wasn't so much behind your back as above your head." Rose spun around and found Pete watching her levelly, relaxing against Mickey's office door frame. "I'd never let Torchwood's most knowledgeable alien expert run the first tests, especially not when I go home to her mother at night."

Rose's brows drew together, and she straightened almost unconsciously as she regarded her almost-father. "Have you told Mum about Project Bad Wolf?"

"God, no. Do I look utterly mad to you? I don't even want to think about what Jacks' reaction to this will be." He turned to leave and paused, pointing at Rose. "_You_ get to tell her about it, by the way."

She nodded, and he strolled out. Rose rested a hip against Mickey's desk while he contemplated her. The muttering and clattering of the lab was somewhat subdued by the cramped office's door, leaving only the silence between them.

He fiddled with a spare pencil, drumming it against his keyboard. "I think I might go with you, y'know. When you leave."

Rose looked up, startled. "What d'you mean?"

Mickey looked down at his clasped hands as he spoke. "Gran's gone, Rose, and she was my only real tie to this universe. Jake's been a proper mate, but after what he an' Rickey had… he'll never really be comfortable around me. An' now that you'll be off, what do I have to keep me here, huh?"

"But Mickey, you're doing an amazin' job! I can't even count how many times the Earth has been saved by my old friend, Mickey Smith." She grinned at him. "I get to brag that I knew you when you sucked your thumb."

He snorted, but grinned back at her. "'S not like _you_ don't have any notches in your belt in the world-savin' department, Rose."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You make it sound so… sleazy."

He winked. "It's a gift."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You sure you only met Captain Jack the once? 'Cause I could've sworn you were channeling 'im, just now."

Mickey recoiled. "Now that's just mean, Rose. I do _not_ sound like Captain Cheesecake."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? I tell it like I see it." Her brown eyes darkened, and she watched Mickey carefully. "You serious about leavin' when I go?"

"I'm not gonna let you go without back-up, Rose." His serious expression melted away, and he grinned boyishly at her. "An' besides, the pizza here is crap. What I wanna know is, what nutter decided it was a good idea to make marinara sauce with aubergines instead of tomatoes?"

She bit her lip against a snicker. "You do have a point. Blimey, but that stuff's nasty." Rose shifted to sit on his desk and kicked her legs out, watching her booted feet sway back and forth under her. She sighed. "I dread tellin' Mum, though. She's going to be so disappointed. She thought she had everything, for once, an' I hate takin' that away from her."

Mickey took her hand, squeezing gently when she looked up at him. "She'll be okay, Rose. She's got Pete an' Tony, an' she's too sharp to think that you've been happy here."

Rose looked down and blinked away stinging tears. "I _have_ been happy sometimes, Mickey."

"Yeah, but your heart's a universe away, an' anyone who really knows you can see it."

She laughed damply, wiping her eyes carefully. "Listen to you, Mr. Sensitive."

Mickey winked at her. "Whaddya know? I had to grow up sometime."

She grinned at him, then sighed and slipped off the desk, grabbing her bag and coat from the spare chair. "I think I might clock out, actually. Might as well get it over with—she'd going to be angry enough that I've kept it from her for this long."

"Better you than me, babe. See you later, yeah?"

"Later." She left his office and headed to the garage, her mind whirling. She could go back. She could really go back. _I really need to buy the Doctor a dictionary. Maybe it'll be a nice little good-to-see-you-again present… with the definition of impossible underlined and highlighted. He really is too fond of that word—at least now that he's all pinstripes and gorgeous hair. It never seemed to bother him that much when he was Northern with a thing for leather._

She steadfastly refused to consider that he'd changed again in her absence. The thought of him being that reckless sent an uncontrollable shiver down her spine as she drove the familiar, winding route back to the Tyler mansion. She buzzed the gate to let her in and parked in her customary spot in the ridiculously large garage. She absentmindedly patted the door to her dark blue Mini Cooper as she got out and headed into the house.

Pete had offered to buy her a Ferrari when she first arrived, and she hadn't been able to stop laughing for a full five minutes. It had taken her a week to make it up to him, with Jackie glaring at her for every minute of it.

Rose grinned a little as she tossed her jacket and bag on the kitchen table. If the Doctor had thought Jackie was intimidating before, it was a good thing he'd never encountered her pregnant. A short, sticky blur came crashing into the kitchen, and Rose's trousers were immediately covered in about equal amounts of small ginger boy and raspberry jam.

She grabbed the counter behind her and laughed, though her heart hurt at the thought of how much the Doctor would've adored Tony. It was probably a good thing they'd never met, though. Those two hyperactive males, each stubborn as a mule, with an enormous sweet tooth and the ability to get into anything they wanted? The world would tremble in terror.

A familiar voice echoed from the hall. "Tony! What have I told you about runnin' in the house? You're going to trip and bust your face, and you'll walk around the rest of your life with a crooked nose just 'cause you didn't listen to your mum." Jackie entered the room, picking up the debris of Hurricane Tony as she came. She blinked when she saw where Tony was, and raised her eyebrows at her daughter. "Rose! You're home early. What's this about, then?"

Rose gently detached her baby brother, making faces at him while he crowed with laughter. She glanced at her mum and responded while crossing her eyes and stretching her mouth absurdly wide. "Why's it got to be about something? Maybe I just had enough of the office for the day."

"I'd believe that if you hadn't spent the last few years holed up at the place day in, day out. I never thought I'd see you _less_ once you stopped travellin' with the Doctor. Now come on, I've got to get Tony cleaned up—he's got a play date in half an hour." She glanced down at Rose's grey wool slacks, now spattered with reddish-purple goo. "Looks like you could do with some cleanin' up yourself, sweetheart. Go get changed, an' we'll have a nice cuppa once Tony's taken care of. An' take your jacket with you!"

Rose sighed and collected her jacket, heading up to the spartan bedroom that she'd chosen. With an entire wall of enormous windows, it was the closest she could get to a place that was bigger on the inside. She slipped out of her work clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket. She still wasn't used to the hired staff doing her laundry, but right now she was too nervous to care. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm red jumper, thoughtfully fingering the small, plain key that still hung, waiting, between her breasts. _I might be able to use this again soon. _

The thought made her take another look at the room she'd been living in for the past four years, and she was disturbed to realize how little of herself was visible there. The furniture was neat and nondescript, and there were no small knickknacks that would really make it _hers_—though she did have a few pictures up of her family.

She traced a finger over the wood frame on the table next to her bed. The small, grainy shot was the only picture she had of the Doctor here on Pete's world, taken with her Superphone when they'd visited the singing mountains on Tulliv Major. The Doctor had been standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, as they both grinned into the camera. Mickey had been able to download the photo and enlarge it for her, but there was really nothing to be done about the quality.

Sometimes she wondered why she kept it right where she could see it, considering how much it made her miss him. Then she remembered that she missed him all the time anyway, so it was worth it to have a reminder of the good times.

She found her mum briskly preparing tea in the kitchen, Tony having been safely deposited with his playmate. Rose paused at the doorway, taking in the sight of her mother, healthy and happy and carefree. She'd eased up on the peroxide and the make-up once she was fully settled as Pete's wife, and the medium ash blonde of her hair and light dash of eyeliner and mascara made her look softer and younger than she had in years.

Rose smiled wryly. Of course, the monthly spa treatments probably helped as well. She'd tried to get her daughter to join her the first few times, but gave up after declaring her a 'right misery'. She'd found plenty of friends among the other mothers at Tony's daycare, though, and Rose was almost ashamed to realize that her mother had more of a social life than she did.

Jackie turned around and spotted Rose staring at her from the doorway, and frowned. "What? Did I get some of Tony's jam on my face? I swear, that boy manages to get his mess on everything. It's like a bloody superpower or somethin'."

Rose smiled at her and walked over to join her in the cozy breakfast nook. "No, nothin's on your face. I just… I love you, is all. I don't tell you enough, but you're an amazing mum."

Jackie paled, and her hand clenched tight around her delicate china teacup. "Oh, lord. You've found a way back. You're leavin' again." Rose's jaw dropped as she struggled for something to say, but Jackie just rolled her eyes and set her teacup down with a deep sigh.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not stupid, and if there's one thing I know, Rose Tyler, it's _you_. You're lookin' at everything like you're saying goodbye." Rose swallowed heavily and took a hasty sip of tea. Jackie's eyes softened, and she reached out and placed an elegantly manicured hand on top of Rose's. "I won't say I like it, sweetheart. I hate it, actually. But you aren't happy here, and if there's one thing a parent wants more than anything else, it's for their child to be happy. You may not have been safe with the Doctor, but God, he made you so happy you nearly glowed."

She took a sip of tea and sighed, looking absently out the window onto the manicured gardens. "I used to hate him for that, you know. I thought, what's he got that I couldn't give to my little girl? But then that fiasco with Torchwood happened, and I saw what he meant to you." She sniffed and blinked away tears. "I got a second chance with the man I love, Rose. I could never keep you from the same thing. Just… be happy, Rose. Promise me that."

Rose gasped in a breath and nodded, her mascara stinging her eyes. "I promise, Mum." She got up and sat next to her mother, her arms around her and her face in her neck. "I'll miss you _so_ much."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm going to miss you every second of every day. I'll never stop telling Tony stories about his big sister, the Defender of the Earth." She sniffed and dabbed at her face with her napkin. "Oh, look what you did! Now my makeup's all messed up, and I was just tryin' out a new liner shade."

Rose laughed and stood, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You look smashing, Mum. Way better than me—I should really invest in some waterproof mascara."

Across the house the front door closed, and Jackie quickly checked her makeup in the reflection from the chrome refrigerator. "Sounds like Pete's home. Matilda made us some nice lamb and potatoes for dinner, I'll just heat it up."

Rose smiled at her not-father as he entered the kitchen. Looking at the state of the makeup in the kitchen, he raised his eyebrows. "You didn't waste any time."

"Figured it was best not to." She laughed a little bitterly. "I hate drawn-out goodbyes."

Pete served himself some tea and leaned against the counter next to Rose. "Mickey told me his plans after you left. I suppose I should be upset with you—I'm losing two of my best agents."

"Mickey's leavin' too?" Pete and Rose looked over at Jackie, who looked almost on the edge of tears again. "Blimey, all this universe swappin's enough to make me dizzy."

"Mum, after his Gran passed, he just doesn't feel that tied to this universe anymore. You'll still have Pete, Mum, and Tony and Melissa and Katherine and Joan. I'm not leavin' you alone, this time." Rose smiled wryly at her. "You've got more friends than I have, really. An' you know what else is different now? You're not getting' left behind. You just found somewhere new."

Pete wrapped his wife in a hug, and Rose couldn't help but smile at the picture they made. Her parents were back together, in a bizzare, fairy tale way, and their happiness gave her hope. After all, if they could find the alternate dimension version of their dead spouse and create a happy marriage together, who was she to live by 'impossible'?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She slipped back up to her room, leaving them murmuring to each other in the brightly lit kitchen. There was something she had to do before she left. Riffling through her hefty Torchwood messenger bag, she set up her camera on its small tripod and turned it on, settling down in front of it to smile into the camera.

"Hey, Mum. I just wanted you to have this." She laughed a little and pulled her hair back from her face. "God, I should've planned this out before I started recording, I guess, but here goes. I love you, Mum. I love you so much. I know you beat yourself up about not givin' me everything you wanted to be able to growing up, but I never cared about that. I always knew I was loved, an' that mattered more than anything, even when I was runnin' off being an idiot about Jimmy Stone. You were always there for me, and that was what mattered. I'm not leavin' because I don't love you enough or some other sort of nonsense. I just… I don't belong here, and you do. You're so happy, and I'm so grateful that I got to see that." She swallowed. "I love you, Mum. Goodbye."

"Pete—I doubt you could've ever expected for all this to happen, from finding Mum again to getting a full-grown almost-daughter and a brand new baby boy, but it couldn't have happened to a more deserving bloke. You let me get to know you, get to watch you with my Mum and with Tony, and I'm so glad I got that chance. I'm proud to be your daughter, I really am. And… thank you for trusting me with Project Bad Wolf. I don't know where I'd be without you."

"Tony—oh, my little Tony-bear. I'm not going to get to see you grow up, but I know you'll be fantastic. D'you know why? 'Cause you've got a brilliant set of parents, right there. You can't fail with Tyler genes, did you hear? 'S true, I swear." She smiled softly at the camera. "You're going to be amazing, Tony, did you know that? And even if I'm not around to smear paint on while I sleep—an' I liked those pajamas, by the way, and that stain still hasn't come out—remember this: even if she's a universe away, your big sister is out there, and she loves you. She's never going to stop loving you. I've travelled to stars and planets that I can't even pronounce, Tony-bear, and that's the most important thing I've seen: to love others and be loved in return. So love your Mum and Dad, and don't worry about other kids tellin' you it's not cool, and know that your Mum and Dad and big sister all love you, too, and always will."

Rose turned off the camera and blew her nose into a tissue, wincing at how raw it felt. She looked around her room, from the soft green of the walls to the tall windows that overlooked the gardens. There wasn't much for her to pack. She pulled out the duffel that she'd taken to Norway and tossed in the clothes from her closet, the small amount of jewelry her mum had given her over the years and the few pictures she had up.

In less than an hour, she had collected everything she wanted to take with her, and there was still room to spare in her bag. A knock sounded at her door, and she opened it to find Mickey waiting outside. He smiled crookedly. "Hey. Gettin' ready?"

"Yeah. Mickey, I've lived here for four years, but look." She lifted her duffel easily with one hand and laughed unsteadily. "I don't wanna think about what I'd've done if we'd never gotten the dimension cannon working."

He shook his head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Don't think about that, Rose. You made it work, somehow, an' I still don't know how you managed that. Those plans you drew make my head spin."

She set her bag on the floor and followed him down the stairs to the kitchen. "I dunno either, Mickey, but I think it's from when I got you two to open the TARDIS for me. I've been dreamin' about it ever since I got here, and lately I can hear her song again, even if it's faint." She paused in the hallway and touched his arm. "Mickey, I think the Bad Wolf never really went away."

He frowned. "You said the Doctor took it out of you, though, an' that's why he turned into the geek."

"He thought he took it away, yeah." She grinned at him as they entered the kitchen. "But as we've just proved, even the Doctor doesn't know everything."

He grinned and rubbed his hands together, sniffing the air happily. "Amen to that."

They sat down to a hot dinner of stuffed lamb and rosemary potatoes, and Rose tried to memorize every minute of the evening, from Tony flinging peas into Mickey's ears (he had surprisingly good aim for a toddler) to the way that her Mum and Pete seemed to gravitate to each other in loving orbit. This was the last time that she'd see her family together like this, and she wouldn't forget any of it. She felt a rush of gratitude towards Mickey as she watched him talk to Pete about possible replacements for their positions while trading good-natured insults with Jackie. She'd never be _in_ love with him again, but she loved him completely.

Tony was yawning by the time they'd finished dinner, and she volunteered to tuck him in. She picked up the bundle of heavy, warm toddler and smiled brokenly. He was really getting too old to be carried.

He blinked sleepily up at her. "Rose? You gonna tell me a story? You tell the _best_ stories, an' Timmy and Susan and Kevin all agree. They're jealous 'cause their mums and dads only tell them about fluffy animals and princes and princesses and things like that, an' I've got a sister that tells me about space pirates and monsters and aliens."

She smiled down at him and settled him into his bed. He'd been so excited about getting a big-boy bed that he hadn't slept a wink the first night he'd had it. She picked up the ragged, much-loved bear that she'd bought for him when he was born and slipped it into his arms, wrapping his green-and-blue blankets tightly around his shoulders. "Tonight, my Tony-bear, I'll tell you the story of the Bad Wolf."

"You mean like with Red Riding Hood?"

"Oh, no. The Bad Wolf was far different from the Big Bad Wolf—she wasn't any taller than me, actually, and she was the one who wore the red hoodie. The Bad Wolf had once been a normal girl, you see, who didn't have much beyond a mum that loved her and a friend named Mickey. Then one day, an alien called the Doctor found her and saved her life. He was looking for a monster, you see, and that very monster had attacked the girl. He helped her escape the monster, and then got caught himself. Well, the girl wasn't about to let him get hurt after he'd saved her, so she saved him right back. The Doctor was so impressed that he offered to let her travel with him in his magical blue box, and the girl flew off into the stars with him. He showed her the universe, with all its monsters and all its beauty. They even met a charming captain who joined them in the blue box. One day, though, they ran into some of the Doctor's old enemies, armored creatures who were blind to the beauty of the universe and had no room for anything more than hate in their squishy hearts. The Doctor knew that the armored creatures would kill everyone if he let them win, so he made a bomb that would destroy them… but he would die as well. He couldn't bear for the girl to be killed, so he sent her away in his blue box, staying behind, alone, to fight against his terrible enemies."

Rose paused and looked down into Tony's wide brown eyes and ruffled his thick ginger hair. "But the girl wouldn't stand for that. There was no way she'd let her Doctor die alone like that, so she and her Mum and her Mickey opened the heart of the blue box, and it granted the girl her heart's desire. She became the Bad Wolf, and she flew right back through the stars to the Doctor's side. She destroyed the Doctor's evil enemies with a wave of her hand and she saved the captain's life, but the Bad Wolf was too much for her, and she was burning up. The Doctor saved her with a kiss, and with that kiss he became a new man, younger and bouncier and even more odd."

She wrinkled her nose down at Tony. "His table manners were almost as bad as yours, my Tony-bear. One time we were helping a mum save her daughter, and he just stuck his fingers in an open jam jar and popped 'em in his mouth. An' he licked _everything_." She shook her head, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, as Tony giggled. "Off they went, the Doctor and the Bad Wolf, dancing through the stars—but in London they found a group of people that was opening a doorway between worlds, and they were letting in terrible metal monsters from the other side. The Doctor and the Bad Wolf knew they had to save the world, but just as the doorway was closing, the Bad Wolf fell through. The door was locked, though, and the Doctor couldn't find a way to get her back. He burned up a sun to say goodbye, because he loved the Bad Wolf as much as she loved him."

Tony sniffed a little, and rubbed his button nose with a small fist. "What happened next, Rose? Will the Bad Wolf and the Doctor find each other again?"

"'Course they will, Tony-bear. D'you know why?" He shook his head and her eyes flickered gold in the dark room. "Because I'm the Bad Wolf, and I will always protect my Doctor." She smiled sadly down at Tony's excited face. "I'm going to be leavin' to find him soon, Tony, and you won't see me anymore, but I've got to go back. The Doctor's useless without me." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Tony. Don't ever forget that, d'you hear me?"

"I won't. Promise, Rose. I won't."

She watched him fall asleep then headed down to the enormous living room, where her parents and Mickey were sitting around the fireplace. She curled up on the luxurious sofa next to her mum, watching the dancing flames. Jackie was the first to break the heavy quiet of the room.

"It's always a trade-off, isn't it? I had a life with you, but my Pete died. Now I've got Pete again, an' you're leavin'. "

Rose blinked away tears as she met her mum's eyes. "I can't stay, Mum. An' it's not just because I miss 'im." She glanced down at her twiddling thumbs before dropping her bombshell. "I haven't been aging, Mum, an' any cuts or bruises I get heal up right away. Mickey ran some tests after I got so banged up when we faced off against the Demotians, remember? The kinda squat purple guys who looked like an Oompa Loompa biker gang?"

Jackie nodded bemusedly. She's been visiting Torchwood that day, and had been used as a hostage by the angry waist-height aliens—at least until their delicate eardrums gotten tired of her shouting, and they sent her back to the humans simply to get rid of her.

Rose took a deep breath. "I never told you, but they broke two ribs and my left arm—an' they were healed by the next morning."

Pete raised his eyebrows. "I wondered how that happened. I'd known you were hurt, but you seemed fine the next day, so I thought I'd just overreacted."

Rose winced. "Sorry about that. Mickey and I thought it would be best if that part wasn't in my Torchwood files. I know I can trust you, but some of the others get a little… excited when it comes to scientific inquiries."

"Did the Doctor do this to you, then?" Rose looked back at Jackie and winced. Her eyes were nearly aflame, she looked so angry. "Did he think you weren't good enough just as you were, an' decided to play god, the arrogant prat?"

"No, Mum, it wasn't the Doctor." Rose took a deep breath. "It was me."

Jackie raised a skeptical eyebrow and snorted. "What, you were bored an' decided to play around with your own DNA, an' you without you're A-levels? How's that work, then?"

"You weren't far off when you said it was somebody playing God, but it wasn't the Doctor. When we opened the TARDIS, I was… changed. Mum, I'm not quite human anymore." She tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. "I'm not quite sure what I am anymore."

There was a tense silence, and then Rose was surprised to be pulled fiercely into her mother's arms. "I'm sorry, Rose."

"Sorry for what?"

"What I said, the day Canary Wharf happened. I was wrong. No matter what happens to you, no matter what species you are or aren't, you will always be Rose Tyler. My daughter."

Rose closed her eyes against the firelight and curled up into her mum's arms, letting Jackie's soft cashmere robe absorb her tears. It was a long time before they went to bed, that night.

* * *

><p>Rose looked around her office, hefting her bag over her shoulder. It was nearly as bare as her bedroom at the mansion, despite the fact that she spent most of her waking hours here. There was another copy of her Superphone picture here, and she slipped it in her pocket. The one from her bedroom she had left with her mother, along with the videos she'd recorded last night. She looked over her desk and sighed. All her paperwork was filled out, all her equipment ready for her to take with her. It was time.<p>

She headed back down to the lab and found her team waiting for her. Jake, Anahid, Devon, and Leah each gave her a hug and wished her luck before heading back to their work. She'd never really connected with them, despite how much she respected them. They'd all been part of the Preachers before joining Torchwood, and were still a little leery of outsiders. Mickey had his belongings stuffed into his big khaki duffel backpack, and multiple guns strapped to his chest. Rose herself had her ever-present stun gun strapped to her thigh and her pistol in her shoulder harness. They were looking for the Doctor, after all, and that almost guaranteed that they would find trouble. Mickey met her eyes and grinned, and she smiled back at him. If this worked—if they found the Doctor—she'd finally be home. Pete came in and gave her one last hug before stepping back behind the technicians. He gave the order, and the lab technicians powered up the Dimension Cannon. The coordinates were set, and with an ear-splitting crack, Mickey and Rose vanished from the lab, leaving only blue sparks in their wake.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I realized I forgot to put this up here yesterday, so... yeah: I've got a good head start on this one, even if I'm not completely finished, and I'll be updating a chapter a day.**

Chapter 3

When Rose woke, she was face-down on the cold, damp ground with a squirrel pawing at her hair. She groaned and heard an answering groan from a few meters away. She sat up, clutching her head in the vain hope that it would stop the drum solo going on in her brain.

Mickey was staring at the late afternoon sky, his back bowed over his thick duffel. "I am _never_ doing that again. God, that was the best device you could come up with? It feels like somebody played Yahtzee with my insides."

She scowled at him and tossed a twig at his face. "Oi, quit your complainin' and check to see if it worked. Can you tell where the signal's comin' from?"

He raised his arm, and on the third try got it up to where he could actually see it. "'S about ten meters northeast."

Rose looked around and spotted a broken down barn through the trees. She hefted herself to her feet with a groan. "C'mon, then. Let's go check it out."

"You can go look if you want, Ms. Invincible. I'm just going to stay here for a while. Maybe I'll actually be able to get up in a few hours."

"Ha ha, you're so funny. If I end up gettin' killed by vicious jelly creatures, _you_ get to go back and tell Mum."

He raised his head to stare at her. "_Jelly_ creatures? Really, Rose?"

She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him. "With all we've seen, you think jelly creatures are too weird?"

He thumped his head back against the forest floor. "Point taken."

She stumbled through the trees, opened the door to the barn and peered into the darkness. There was a tall shape at the back, and she pulled out a small torch to see what it was. She dropped it a moment later. There—in the back of a nondescript, abandoned barn, and dusted with cobwebs—was the TARDIS. She fumbled her torch back into her pocket and darted forwards, hastily pulling her key out from under her shirt. It wasn't any warmer than usual, and the golden glow that always used to tell her that the TARDIS was near was more of a faint shimmer. She slipped it in the lock and opened the door.

The lights in the console room were barely lit, and the column was still. She rested a hand against the console, fighting against the lump in her throat. "Oh, love, what happened?" The lights brightened momentarily, and she felt a wonderfully familiar presence brush against her mind. She grinned up at the column, her tears gilded in the eerie light. "I missed you, too. _So _much."

She heard the door open behind her and spoke without turning. "Mickey, somethin's wrong with her—she's almost totally off-line, an' she says the Doctor's not here." She laughed a little and petted the console. "Hold on! Slow down, love—I've got a lot to tell you, too, but I have to know where the Doctor is first."

She turned and found a beautiful black woman in an old-fashioned maid's uniform staring, dumb-founded, at her. Rose blinked. "Oh. You're not Mickey."

The woman straightened and glared at her. "And _you're_ not supposed to be in here. Who are you?"

"I'm Rose, Rose Tyler." The woman gasped softly at that, her dark eyes enormous in the dim lighting. "What? Have you heard of me?"

"_Heard_ of you? He won't bloody shut up about you." She looked Rose up and down and Rose shifted uncomfortably, even though part of her wanted to dance joyfully around the console. He hadn't forgotten her, hadn't abandoned her to history like Sarah Jane and so many others.

She cleared her throat, and the other woman blinked and focused on her again. "Well, you know who I am, apparently, but I don't know who you are. What's your name?"

"Martha Jones." She still seemed on edge, and Rose smiled uncertainly at her.

"How long have you been travellin' with the Doctor, then?"

"A few months." Her voice was hard, and her eyes were anything but friendly.

There was a scramble at the door, and Mickey burst in a moment later. "Rose, there's somebody else out there—oh." He stared at Martha. "Hello."

Rose grinned at the confused expression on her old mate's face. "Yeah, I got that already, thanks. Mickey, this is Martha Jones. Martha, this is Mickey Smith. He used to travel with the Doctor, too."

"Used to. He another person who just left him, then? Or, no, was Mickey the reason you left the Doctor?"

Rose glared at Martha, who was glaring right back. "Excuse me? Who the hell are you, that you'll make accusations like that? You don't know me. I _didn't_ leave the Doctor." Her hands clenched. "At least, not by choice."

Mickey was laughing, which only seemed to make Martha angrier. "Oh, man, have you got it backwards. The Doctor's the reason Rose left _me_."

Martha sneered at Rose. "You make it a habit of leaving people, then?"

Rose pulled herself to her full height and crossed her arms angrily. "Right, I've had enough of this. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you've got it all wrong. Besides, I didn't come all this way to find _you_. Where's the Doctor?"

"You can't see him."

Rose's eyes glinted dangerously. "Oh, no?"

Mickey stepped closer to Martha, amusement still clear in his voice. "You know, you might want to tell her where he is. There's nothin' that'll keep Rose away from the Doctor, not even bein' trapped a whole universe away."

For the first time, Martha's glare faltered. "Trapped? What do you mean?"

Rose blinked. "I thought you said you knew who I was. Hasn't he said anything about where I am?"

Martha shook her head slowly. "He said that you were safe and happy with your family, and then he clammed up. Refused to talk about it."

Rose sighed and plopped onto the jump seat. "He _would_ say that. Bloody stupid alien—I swear, forget the knowin' everything and regeneration, denial is his superpower." She scooted over and gestured for Martha to join her, and the other woman eventually did, though she did so somewhat warily. Mickey rested his hip against the console and watched them.

Rose cleared her throat, her hands knotted together. "First things first, I guess. Y'know how in sci-fi they're always goin' on about parallel universes?" At Martha's nod, she continued. "Well, they really exist. When Mickey and the Doctor and I were travellin' together, we got pulled into one. There were these things called Cybermen tryin' to take over the world—nasty pieces of work. The nutter who designed 'em thought that emotions only made people weak, so he stripped his victims of everything that made them human and trapped them in these huge metal suits, then sent 'em out to make more. We were able to stop most of them, and Mickey stayed behind to help deal with the rest when the Doctor and I left. I thought I'd never see 'im again, because travel between universes is supposed to be impossible. A few months later, this group called Torchwood was causin' trouble in London."

Martha stiffened. "Canary Wharf." At Rose's surprised look, she explained, her voice low. "My cousin, Adeola, she worked there. She… she didn't make it."

Rose took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm so sorry." Martha nodded and smiled uncertainly at her, and Rose continued. "Torchwood had been opening a crack between the universes, trying to use it as a power source, but they were tearin' a hole in the fabric of reality to do it. And in the space between the universes—the Void—there were things waiting. The Daleks." Martha gasped and Rose stared at her, an uneasy feeling skittering down her spine. "Wait, how do _you_ know what they are?"

"The Doctor and I ran into a group of them, in New York in the Thirties. They were doing these experiments—it was terrible. They killed so many people."

Rose slumped forward, and Mickey rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They survived. Why do they always survive?"

"The Doctor said the same thing, too. I've never seen him behaving like that—he was so out of control. He just screamed at them that they should kill him." Martha shivered. "I never want to see him like that again. But what happened at Canary Wharf? He never said."

"The Daleks and the Cybermen were tryin' to break into this universe, and we had to stop them. We were able to pull them into the Void, but I nearly got sucked in, too. My parallel dad grabbed me at the last second, but I was trapped. The walls of the universe were closed, and I was stuck a universe away."

Martha frowned. "So how'd you get here?"

"I think it was the TARDIS, really. I'd connected with her when the Doctor was in his last body, and that part of me woke up once I was in the parallel universe. She kinda showed me what to build to get back home."

Martha stood and started pacing, and Rose and Mickey watched her carefully. She spun to face them, and her expression was worried. "I'm still not sure you should see the Doctor. He's not himself right now. It's why the TARDIS is powered down like it is—he's hidden himself away, so deeply that even he doesn't know who he is." She took a deep breath. "He's human."

Rose felt her heart drop into her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"We were being chased, followed by this group that called themselves the Family of Blood—they're these, I don't know, symbiotic creatures that wanted to kill him for his ability to regenerate. They're like mayflies, otherwise, he said. Their lifespan's over in three months, so he went through that thing—" she pointed at the helmet bristling with spikes that had been hanging behind the console, and Rose and Mickey shivered— "and it altered his mind, his physiology. Made him completely human. _Completely_. He has no idea who he is, now. Just thinks he's a boring history teacher named John Smith. He's got his real mind locked up in this little pocket watch. I've been watching over him as best I can, but it's not easy bein' the only one who knows who he really is, especially since I'm— well, you know." She gestured at her face, and Rose and Mickey winced in sympathy.

"So he dumped you here, the world on your shoulders, and he couldn't even be bothered to find a time where you'd be treated well? Why on earth didn't you just smack 'im?" Martha laughed a little, but she didn't reply. Rose stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go have a cuppa. It seems you could use an ear right now. Mickey—" she turned to him as he was gathering up their bags. "Can you still get in contact with the others, back in Pete's world?"

He nodded briskly. "Yeah. Control's got our comm's wired up so we can contact them in case of emergency."

"Good. Find out if there's any information on the Family of Blood in the Torchwood archives. The sooner we get them dealt with, the sooner we get the Doctor back."

He nodded, and the women headed to the kitchen. Martha paused outside the door.

"Actually, I think I'm going to change first—God, I have had more than enough of this uniform. I hate it. Soon as I put it on, it's like magic—Martha's gone, now there's just some faceless maid."

Rose groaned. "Tell me about it. Anytime we went undercover, I always ended up being stuck as the lunch lady or the help. Never anything fun or glamorous."

Martha turned to her, surprised. "He did that to you, too?"

"Yeah. Had me serving up chips to brats all day long while he ran off an' played teacher. 'Course, it worked out in the end, but it was still bloody annoying while it lasted."

Martha nodded and left to find her room, and came back a few minutes later in jeans and a soft jumper. Rose was setting the teapot on the table and rummaging through the cupboards. She glanced over her shoulder at Martha. "He still have those gorgeous lemon biscuits from Auros Prime?"

"Nah, he tends to stay out of the kitchen." Martha laughed a little and sat at the small, high wooden table. "Which is odd, 'cause anytime we're exploring a new world, he'll eat enough for three people."

"I know! It's like he's got a bloody hollow leg!" Rose paused. "Which, well, might be possible. Alien, y'know. But he just stays so impossibly skinny, and I'm over here, like, hello? Mind sharin' your secret with me? 'S a good thing travellin' with him always involves so much runnin', or else I'd blow up like a blimp."

Martha burst out laughing, and Rose laughed with her. She seemed to have calmed down, and Rose could almost see the stress fall away from her shoulders. Martha sipped her tea, and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "This is good. This is really, really good."

Rose grinned. "Learned from my mum—best tea in the universe, according to the Doctor."

"I think I believe him. How did you make it?"

Rose tapped the side of her nose and winked. "Sorry, family secret. A girl's gotta have some mysteries, y'know?"

Martha pouted for a moment, but she settled and sipped her tea again. Rose found the biscuits she'd been looking for tucked away in a cupboard, and she patted the walls gratefully before she joined Martha at the table.

The other woman watched her curiously before setting her cup down. "You're not anything like I expected."

Rose swallowed her tea and smiled bemusedly. "What did you expect?"

"I dunno, some supermodel genius who never once made a mistake. But you're just… normal."

Rose's smile was a little forced. "Not as normal as I used to be. What do you mean, though? Did he talk about me like that? 'Cause if he did, I'm gettin' him checked in for dementia." She shook her head and took a sip of tea. "I messed up all the time when I was with 'im. Near ended the world, once, just 'cause I didn't listen to him."

"He talks about you like you were perfect. Anytime we're stuck, he's always going on about how 'Rose would know what to do'." Her imitation was off, but it was spoken with the bitter voice of experience.

"He didn't!"

"He did. First trip we were on. We ended up sharing a bed, and all he could talk about was you."

Rose winced, fighting against the sharp flare of satisfaction at the story. "Oh, Martha, I'm sorry. Sounds like he's been treating you awfully."

"It's not that he treats me badly." Martha stared down into her cup and sighed. "It's that he doesn't even_ see_ me. He just sees that you're not there." She looked up, and her eyes were swimming with tears. "Even as a human. He's been having dreams—he writes them down in this daft journal, claims that it's just make-believe, but it's memories. It's all the Doctor's memories." She snorted and took another sip. "He doesn't even know who he is anymore, but he remembers you."

Rose's breath caught, and she stared at Martha. "Really?"

"Oh, please, don't act like you're surprised." Both women turned to see Mickey lounging in the doorway, his eyes on Rose. "He may be some ancient alien, but he was so head over heels for you it wasn't even funny. Just like you were for 'im."

Rose bit her lip and started to apologize again, but he waved her off. "Don't worry about it, babe. I forgave you a long time ago." He turned to look at Martha, his expression both knowing and compassionate. "Doesn't make it any easier to live with it right in front of you, though."

Martha returned his smile, though she still looked a little fragile. Rose glanced between them and finished her tea, standing as Mickey came into the room. "I'm going to go find my room. God, it's been so long since I've seen it." Mickey waved her off, pouring a cup of tea for himself and joining Martha at the table.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Rose smiled to herself as she left the kitchen, following the familiar path to her bedroom. She wouldn't be able to comfort Martha right now—especially if the Doctor had been talking about her like _that_—but Mickey might be able to. Not to mention, Martha was drop-dead gorgeous and Mickey hadn't shown any interest in anyone for several months now.

She swallowed as she arrived at her bedroom door. The smooth maple wood was exactly the same as she remembered it, and the delicate dream-catcher that she had been given when she and the Doctor visited the Niitsitapi Blackfeet in Montana was still there. She took a deep breath and opened the door, not sure what she would find.

She gasped when the lights came on. There were the deep purple walls that she'd found the first morning she'd woken up, and the thick cream-colored carpet that somehow managed to never get dirty. There was the intricate tapestry that she'd been given on Arkturos, and the never-fading flower that the Doctor had given her on Jian (though the Doctor insisted the correct way to pronounce it was Jiiiiian). All of the little trinkets she'd picked up over the years were still there, as were the photos that she'd lined the mirror on her vanity with, but everything was so much tidier than she'd ever left it. She bit her lip, looking at the battered pair of Converse sitting at the side of the bed. She could make a wild guess as to why.

Rose brushed her fingers over the dresser where her makeup was now neatly lined up and crossed the room to empty her backpack into the golden maple wardrobe. She swung the doors open and bit her cheek to keep the tears at bay. Her clothes were still in there—and they were actually hung up, for once—but they'd been joined by a small array of brown and blue (_blue?_) pinstriped suits.

"Oh, _Doctor_." She brushed a hand against the familiar soft brown wool of his suit and pulled it out to bury her nose in it, clinging to the faint smell of oranges, cloves and old books that always surrounded him. She sat on her bed and spoke quietly into the room, her voice choked with tears. "I missed you, too."

Some time later there was a soft noise at the door, and she looked up to find Martha watching her. The other woman cleared her throat. "You really did miss him."

Rose stared down at the brown suit in her hands, her eyes swimming with tears. "More than I can say."

Martha stepped cautiously into the room, taking in the obviously feminine decorations and the few bits of the Doctor that were scattered around it, from the thick stack of old books at the bedside to the small clockwork mechanism that was lying, half-finished, on the dresser. When she spoke, her voice was hesitating and quiet. "He never let me see what was in here. One time I woke up to hear him screaming in his sleep and came to see what was the matter, and he wouldn't even open the door after I woke him up. Just told me to go back to bed." She joined Rose on the bed after a moment and stared at her hands, clasped on her lap. "I was so angry at you, before I met you. He was in so much pain without you, and he refused to tell me anything more than that you were gone, and you were happy without him."

Rose reached out and held Martha's hand, which had been nervously fiddling with the small silver bracelet on her wrist. "He lied. Sometimes he has to pretend, the Doctor. He sees so much pain and suffering out there, and he gets to the point where he can't face it anymore." She smiled, a little bittersweetly. "I gotta say, it doesn't really surprise me that he'd jump at the chance to become just a simple human for a while. He was always goin' on about how great humans have it."

Martha took a deep breath, gently taking her hand back from Rose. "Do you think… are you going to look him up? John Smith?"

"John Smith? Is that what he's calling himself these days?" At Martha's nod, Rose sighed and stroked the soft suit jacket in her arms. "I dunno. I'd love to see him, I think that's fair obvious. Mickey and I could help you keep an eye on 'im, but you know more about the situation." She nodded at Martha, Agent Tyler of the Torchwood Institute coming to the fore. "I think I'll trust your judgement, Martha Jones." She patted Martha's shoulder and got up, carefully replacing the Doctor's suit in the wardrobe as she filled it in with her new clothes. She wrinkled her nose at the battered jeans and well-worn hoodies that she dislodged. God, she'd been so _young_.

Martha cleared her throat once Rose had finished unpacking, coming back from wherever her thoughts had been with a shake of her head. "I think we'd better find out from Mickey if your team back in the other universe has anything on the Family before we decide what to do next."

"Good idea. You can take a peek at the equipment we brought, too—see if there's anything that you think would help."

Martha nodded and headed back for the control room, a sense of purpose straightening her shoulders. Rose glanced back at her room before she left and paused as she saw a very familiar instrument sitting on the bedside table, right next to a picture of the two of them laughing at the funfair on Methokaluniavorgan. She slipped the sonic screwdriver in her pocket, sending a silent promise to something—God, the Doctor, whatever—that she _would_ get him back.

* * *

><p>The women found Mickey pacing the control room, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight. Rose frowned. "Mick? You got any news from the other side?"<p>

He glanced up at them and smiled halfheartedly. "Yeah, I got news—don't think you'll like it, though."

"Yeah, well, this isn't about what I like. It's about the Doctor's safety. What've you got?"

He sighed and opened his laptop, scanning over the screen quickly. "The Family's shown up in Pete's World, before. They're from a group of beings that travel in packs, hunters that are almost unparalleled in their ability to track their prey and hunt them down. They have a very short lifespan, which is why they tend to go after longer-lived beings like the Doctor. The main problem is that these _things_ are all about the collateral damage. They can possess almost any lower life form—and God, times like these I really hate being classified as a lower life form—but they destroy the being's consciousness the instant they take over." He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair unhappily. "If we run into anyone who's been taken by the Family, we've got to destroy them. No matter whose face they wear. If the Family's gotten to them, they're _gone._"

Rose bit her lip. "Could they take over the Doctor? John Smith, I mean?"

"Wait, _Smith_? He's goin' by Smith now?" Mickey shook his head, snickering. "I guess he thought Sarah Jane was right—the TARDIS always does need a Smith."

Martha shot him a look and rolled her eyes at Rose, who bit back a giggle. "No, he'd be safe. His Time Lord consciousness may be separate, but it's still a part of him."

Rose's hands tensed, though she forced herself to be relaxed. "D'you want us to help you look after him?"

Martha looked at her hands and then looked up at Rose. "What if he recognizes you? What if he wakes up too early?"

"Could that happen? I thought the Doctor was locked away in the watch."

"He's supposed to be, but you… you still haunt his dreams. What'll we say when he starts to wonder why the girl he keeps dreaming about shows up in the village?"

Rose shrugged. "I've just got one of those faces, I guess."

"I'd rather stay here, actually." Rose turned to Mickey, who was digging through his backpack again. He glanced up at them and shrugged. "I mean, it's not like I'll actually be able to get a job near him, is it? I'd just end up muckin' out a stable somewhere, an' here I can liaise with Torchwood and keep an eye on the readings around here. If the Family show up, I'll know about it." He grinned. "'Sides, I've got your mobile number. If I need to get in touch, I'll just give you a ring and leave _you_ to explain the magical wireless communicator."

"You just want another crack at the video game room." He shrugged unabashedly and Rose laughed at him and turned to Martha. "So, what do you think?"

Martha bit her lip, considering. "I think… I think it'll be good to have somebody else lookin' out for him, too."

Rose smiled. "Wardrobe, then?"

The other woman nodded. "Definitely wardrobe."

* * *

><p>Rose stared at herself in the mirror, amazed at the change in her appearance. With her roots neatly done and no make-up on her face, she almost didn't recognize herself. The TARDIS had provided a small suitcase with a variety of workable clothes, and she sent a mental wave of gratitude to the ship again. The outfit she had picked out was simple, just a floor-length grey wool skirt with a delicately pin-tucked ivory blouse and a small black cummerbund. There were deep pockets in the skirt, much to her relief, and the smart black leather boots that she'd found next to it fit her perfectly.<p>

She grinned at Martha, who had been poking through some of the more regrettable areas of the wardrobe. "Oh, I missed this. It's so nice not havin' to worry about how anything fits in here. The TARDIS is a brilliant tailor."

Martha turned around and blinked. "Blimey, you look like you belong."

Rose looked down and flushed, playing with her skirt a little. "You reckon? I doubt I'll fool anyone as soon as my mouth opens." She grinned, her tongue poking out from between her teeth. "I'm not exactly anyone's idea of ladylike."

"If we were in London, maybe. But out here, it's just a small town." Martha smiled. "It's pretty easy going. I've even been able to make some friends, no matter what year it is." Rose smiled at her, and Martha grinned back. "Tell you what, though, it'll be good to have you and Mickey around. At least then I'll know that there's someone else here who knows that things aren't going to be like this forever."

"And thank god for that." Rose patted her pocket where the psychic paper rested and pulled on the trim blue coat she'd found next to Martha's, picking up the small suitcase with a deep breath. "Okay. So we're doing this."

Martha shook her head and straightened her uniform, which she had changed back into while Rose was finding her clothes. "We are. We're mad, but we are."

A neatly painted black and tan bicycle waited in the console room when they entered it, with a sturdy basket to fit her suitcase. Martha stared, but Rose just grinned at the console.

Martha looked at her, her mouth open. "Where did that _come_ from? I had to save up for ages to get mine!"

"The TARDIS has got nearly everything you could ever need somewhere in her nooks and crannies—you've just got to know how to ask for it."

Martha blinked. "The Doctor does that, too. Talks about his ship like she's alive."

"'S because she is. She and I are old friends, aren't we?" Rose petted the console, and the lights flickered happily.

Martha shook her head. "Okay, that's just _weird_."

They found Mickey setting up shop in the barn, a long cable coming from the TARDIS connecting his multiple laptops and devices. Rose frowned.

"You sure you want to stay out here, Mick? I'd bet your room's still in there, somewhere."

"I'll probably pack it in for the night, but for now, the TARDIS kinda interferes with my readings." He looked up at Rose and stared. "Blimey, look at you, all proper and ladylike! It's just the outfit, I guess." He laughed as she cuffed his head lightly. "Nah, still Rose Tyler in there. Too bad, I had such high hopes."

"Oh, shut up." Martha led her outside to where her own bike waited, resting against the outside of the barn. Rose shook her head. "Blimey, if you tried that nowadays—well, in the future, I guess—your bike'd be gone in thirty seconds."

"Don't I know it. I guess there are some good things about this time period, even if they're few and far between." She turned to Rose and studied her intently. "Now, I think there's an opening for a librarian at the school. It's a proper, ladylike job, and the Doctor—Mr. Smith, I mean—is in there constantly. You can't really ask for a better position to keep an eye on him. D'you think you'll be able to talk your way in?"

"With the psychic paper? Oh, I'll be in there like a shot. Shall I follow you to the school, then?"

"Up until we reach the gates, at least. I've got to head off to the servant's quarters as soon as I get in—I'm late as it is, anyway."

"I'll be right behind you. And Martha—" she turned back to Rose, who was fiddling with her phone. "If you need someone to talk to, or just some time alone, send me a message and I'll make up some story for why I need you. You don't have to do this by yourself, anymore."

Martha nodded and stalled for a moment before throwing her arms around Rose in a sudden, fierce hug. "Thank you."

She stepped back hurriedly and got on her bike, pushing off with ease. Rose followed, torn somewhere between jubilant and paranoid. She would see the Doctor again soon, but it wouldn't be him. She tightened her grip on the bike handles as they sped through the forest. It wouldn't be him. She had to remember that.

The ride was long, but beautiful. Rose had to marvel at the pristine scenery. She'd been born and bred in London, and the English countryside was near close to a different planet as far as she was concerned—and that was including after she's spent years traveling on _actual_ different planets. The town they glided through was tiny, containing barely more than fifty buildings.

_And the Doctor is tucked somewhere in the middle of this. No wonder the Family can't find him._ Martha signaled for Rose to continue on to the front as they rode through the gates, instead turning around to the back of the house. Rose took a deep breath and continued on to the front, gliding to a stop in front of the neat, imposing building.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Farringham School for Boys. So, this was where John Smith was living. Now all she had to do was find her own place here. She stepped lightly off of her bicycle, plucking her suitcase out before the tall, droopy manservant who hurried down had a chance to take it from her. She smiled demurely at him, making sure to project the image of a well-bred woman.

"How do you do, sir? I'm here to speak to the Headmaster. I believe he was supposed to be expecting me. My name is Rose Tyler, I'm here about the opening for a librarian."

"The Headmaster is out with the shooting class, miss, but I would be happy to take you to his office to wait."

"Thank you kindly."

"Not at all, miss."

She followed him through the halls, noting the impressive woodwork and the neatly dressed students. This was miles—no, light-years—away from the fluorescent mediocrity of her own school years on the Estate. The manservant led her to a wood-paneled office, vibrantly lit by the elegant stained glass windows. "If you'll wait here, miss, I'll fetch the Headmaster for you."

"Thank you very much—I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

The manservant blinked and puffed out his chest. "Henry, miss. Henry Long."

"Thank you, Henry."

He bowed shortly and left her alone. She looked around with a sigh. It was a good thing she'd had as much experience as she had, both with the Doctor and with Torchwood. She'd have been tongue-tied with awe if she'd had to infiltrate the school before she'd started travelling.

After a few minutes the door opened behind her and she rose to greet the Headmaster, a neatly dressed man of middling years. "Hello, sir. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. My uncle has told me so much about this school."

He blinked and shook her hand, looking a bit confused. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, miss. Henry told me that I was to be expecting you, but I have received no such communication."

Rose lifted her hand to her mouth, feigning shock. "Oh, no! But Uncle told me that he had written to you weeks ago!"

"I'm afraid I have received no such letter. You look pale—here, take a seat." He smiled down at her, releasing her hand gently. "Now, let us see if we can get this matter cleared up. I am Headmaster Rocastle. And you are?"

"Rose Tyler, sir. My Uncle Matthew told me that he had heard of an opening for a librarian, and knowing of my circumstances, he offered to send a letter of introduction so that you would perhaps consider me for the job."

"I'm afraid your Uncle Matthew has failed to send his letter, Miss Tyler. Did he perhaps give you a copy as well?"

"That he did, sir." Rose pulled out the psychic paper, letting Headmaster Rocastle read it thoroughly.

"Of course, Matthew Foster! I say, how is the old chap?"

"He's doing quite well, sir. He sends his regards—he remembers Farringham School with much fondness."

"Indeed, we had many memorable times together, as lads. I'll tell you what, Miss Tyler. It's truly a pity that your introductory letter was not received, but you are precisely what we are looking for. Our library has been without a caretaker for too long, and I could never turn away such a recommendation from Matthew Foster. If this position is truly what you are looking for, than I would be quite happy to welcome you to our ranks."

Rose beamed at him. "I cannot thank you enough, sir! Farringham seems perfect."

"Well, we are only too happy to have you here." He pulled a cord and the door opened, showing Martha on the other side. "Mary, if you would escort Miss Tyler to her room? I believe there is an open apartment next to the Matron."

"Of course, sir." Martha met Rose's eyes as she picked up Rose's suitcase, and Rose bit her lip. She followed her through the halls, only speaking once they reached her room.

"How can you stand it? Blimey, Martha, if I were you, I would have exploded by now."

Martha sighed and sat heavily on Rose's bed, watching as she unpacked and tucked her clothes in the wardrobe. "I stand it 'cause I have to, I guess. Don't think I haven't come close to blowing my top, though. That's why I was visiting the TARDIS today—sometimes I just need some time to remind myself that I'm me."

"Well, now you've got me here to do the same thing. I'll be happy to let you bitch at me, if you need it." She waved off Martha's scandalized expression. "Oh, don't worry about anyone hearing, by the way—I got a good look at the walls as I came in, and they're nice and thick."

Martha leaned back on the bed with a thump, staring at the ceiling. "God, you're lucky. In the servant's hall, the walls are paper thin. The cook and the stablemaster have been goin' at it for weeks, and they actually think nobody knows." She grimaced as Rose giggled.

A knock at the door stilled both their voices, and Martha rose and straightened her uniform. Rose opened the door curiously as Martha tidied up the room, and had to bite back a gasp. There he was, in all his gawky, brown-eyed glory. The man that she'd been madly in love with for what felt like an impossible amount of years. He stared right back at her, looking as if he'd been greeted by a ghost.

Behind her, Martha cleared her throat. "I believe that's the last of it, miss. Remember to ask if you need any more help." She slipped past Rose, managing to give her a subtle—but painful—elbow to the ribs.

Rose jerked and smiled at John Smith, hoping against hope that her cheeks weren't actually as brilliantly red as they felt. "I'm so sorry, I haven't introduced myself. Rose Tyler, the new librarian." She held out her hand nervously, wondering what would happen when their skin met.

He shook himself and took her hand gently in his, a flash of _something_ showing in his eyes when her hand was enfolded in his. "Please, the discourtesy is all mine. My name is John Smith, Miss Tyler, and I teach history. The Headmaster informed me that you were new to the school and would need someone to show you around, and as I have no class at the moment, I felt inclined to render my services." He looked down and seemed to realize that he was still holding her hand, and flushed bright red. He released it quickly and gestured down the hallway. Rose shut and locked her bedroom door and walked beside him, wondering desperately what to say.

He led her down the hall in awkward silence, seemingly preoccupied with memorizing the lines of her profile. She glanced up at him and smiled, and he nearly tripped. She bit her lip and spoke. "Have you been here long, Mr. Smith?"

He cleared his throat and looked away hurriedly, the tips of his ears turning a brilliant (and rather adorable, in Rose's opinion) shade of red. "No, I have not. In fact, I only started this position a few weeks ago." He sent Rose a quicksilver smile, and she pressed her nails deeply into her palm. _Not the Doctor._ "As I only recently started here myself, Miss Tyler, I thought I might be able to offer you some help, if you would ever wish it. After all, we new people must stick together, eh?"

"That is very kind of you, Mr. Smith." She smiled briefly up at him, fighting against the illogical part of her that insisted _that's him, he's right there smiling at you! Don't you see it?_

"Anytime, Miss Tyler. Actually, you're rather brave for taking on the position of librarian here. I believe the last librarian left here several months ago, and we teachers have slowly been absorbing the collection over the semester. I'm afraid you might have to do rather a lot of requisitioning as you put the library in order."

"I'm not afraid of hard work, Mr. Smith, and I'm only too happy to do what needs to be done."

"An admirable attitude." He stared down at her some more, pausing in the doorway to the library. "Pardon me if I sound a bit forward, Miss Tyler, but I can't help thinking I've met you somewhere before. I could've sworn we only met today, and yet your face is as familiar as if I'd seen it a thousand times."

Rose forced herself to look calmly up at him, even though she could feel her heart stumble in its beating. "Today is the first day we've met, Mr. Smith. Other people have told me I look familiar before. Perhaps I just have one of those faces."

His reply was a swift and unequivocal, "No." He seemed to realize his behavior, and flushed deeply. "Pardon me, I don't mean to be rude. I would just never describe your face as common." He cleared his throat, glancing awkwardly around. "And this is to be your domain, Miss Tyler. Welcome to the library." He opened the door with a flourish, and it took Rose a full five minutes to see the room clearly, it was so dimly lit. The shelves were nearly bare, the books instead piled haphazardly across the heavy wooden tables.

Rose stared at the room, amazed that such a mess could exist in such a well-organized school. "Well. I can understand why the Headmaster has been looking for a new librarian." John Smith laughed softly beside her, and she glanced back at him with a grin. "I suppose I should get to work."

He glanced down at her, his eyes wide. "Oh, but you were only just hired! I'm certain that Headmaster Rocastle would not expect you to begin this very day."

"I believe in starting as I mean to go on." Rose shrugged. "Besides, what else am I going to do? I don't find much amusement in sitting around my room doing nothing."

John shook his head, looking amused. "Your energy is apparently boundless, Miss Tyler." He took off his jacket and set it carefully on the back of a sturdy chair, smiling a little at Rose's expression. "I have no students to bother me at the moment, and I would be more than happy to assist you."

She smiled her acquiescence, looking carefully around the room. "First things first, Mr. Smith, I believe organizing the books by subject and then by author would be the most important."

The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly, as Rose and John worked easily in tandem. She had to keep forcefully reminding herself that he was _not_ actually the Doctor, they worked so well together. The sun was setting through the dingy windows when a knock sounded on the door, and a portly, balding man stuck his head in. "Ah, Smith! There you are. I believe you and I share dinner duty, tonight, and you know the headmaster dislikes his teachers not presenting a neat appearance."

By this time John had gotten himself covered in dust, and he blinked comically at the other man. Rose bit back a giggle, feeling more than a little grimy herself. The older gentleman turned to her, smiling jovially. "And you must be our new librarian. The name's Anthony Merryweather, and I teach the natural sciences. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss. Almost as much of a pleasure as it will be to have an organized collection to dig through again."

She shook his hand, smiling despite the sticky dust that covered her forehead and made her skin itch. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Merryweather. Rose Tyler."

John had pulled out a pocket watch at Merryweather's warning, and he paled at the time he found. "Pardon me for dashing off like this, Miss Tyler, but I must hurry to my room if I am to be ready for dinner with the students." He smiled distractedly at her and hurried out of the room.

Merryweather shook his head fondly. "A bit absentminded, Mr. Smith, but a good man." He glanced around the room, impressed. "You seem to have done quite a bit already, Miss Tyler. Perhaps it's time to stop for the day."

Rose gritted her teeth against the patronizing tone, though she was certain to keep her irritation from her face. "Oh, but I don't feel tired yet at all."

"Nonsense, Miss Tyler. As admirable as your work ethic might be, I'm sure that it would catch up to you in the morning. Here, let me escort you to your room. The Staff's dinner is in an hour, and I'm sure you could use the time to tidy up, eh? Nothing like a good first impression."

She forced herself to smile at him. "I'm sure you're right, Mr. Merryweather. And really, you are too kind." _Way too kind, you interfering old coot._ She left him at the door to her rooms with more thanks, sighing in relief when the door shut behind her. She flopped down on the armchair next to the window, scowling at her reflection. "As if organizing books is anything to complain about. Mickey and I once stopped an invasion with nothing more than the contents of our pockets."

She pulled out her phone and dialed Mickey's number, curling up in the late afternoon sunlight.

_"'Ello?"_

"Hey, Micks, it's me. I'm in. Got the job, an' even met John Smith."

_"So is it really him?"_

"It's him, all right. Down to the last freckle."

_"I don't think I want to know how you know that."_

"Oh, shut up. Listen, have you run across any non-terrestrial signals in your scans?"

_"Other than you an' Martha's cell phones, not so much—there's the TARDIS, of course, but other than that we're clear."_

Rose sat up a little, disturbed. "Wait, you can track our mobiles?"

_"Yeah. Whatever the Doctor did to your phones, it makes 'em light up on the scans."_

Rose relaxed back into the cushions, frowning in thought. "Bein' able to track us might come in handy, but it also makes us vulnerable to the Family."

_"Not so much, actually. The Family don't track using technology that often. They mostly use their sense of smell."_

"_Smell?_ Oh, that's just wrong." She glanced at the mirror across the room and sighed at her dingy appearance. "Listen, I've got to go get ready for the staff dinner. Gimme a ring if you hear anything, all right? I've got my mobile on vibrate, and I'll try to get away to talk to you."

_"Might get suspicious after a while, babe. I'll only ring you if it's important. Sweet dreams, Bad Wolf. Tin Dog out."_

Rose laughed. "'Night, Mickey." She slipped her mobile back in her pocket, brushing her hair out and re-doing it as she cleaned her face hurriedly. She switched her blouse out for a similar one from her suitcase and brushed off her skirt, already missing the days of trousers and zip-up jackets. There was a soft knock at the door and she opened it to find a pleasant-looking blonde woman in a neat nurse's uniform who looked to be in her mid-thirties.

The woman smiled. "How do you do, miss. I am the matron here, Joan Redfern. I thought I might escort you to dinner—the school can be a little bewildering, the first few days."

"That's very kind of you, Matron Redfern. Rose Tyler, the new librarian."

"Oh, yes, we've all heard of you, Miss Tyler. We don't get many changes in this small world of ours. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Rose followed the older woman along the passageway, taking comfort from the familiar weight of the sonic screwdriver against her thigh. She cleared her throat. "Have you been here long, Matron Redfern?"

"For a few years, yes. The Headmaster was kind enough to give me a position here after my husband was killed in a skirmish."

Rose bit her lip. "That's terrible, Matron Redfern. I'm sorry to hear it."

"That's very kind of you, Miss Tyler. It's a good life here, though. The students are well-behaved, for the most part, and the rest of the staff is quite pleasant."

"How large is the staff, may I ask?"

"Oh, not very large. There's a professor for each subject, of course, and the Headmaster and his assistant—with you and I and the servants, it's no more than forty people. But Headmaster Rocastle is quite discriminating when it comes to the pupils at his school, so we have them well in hand."

Rose nodded politely as they reached the dining hall and followed Joan in.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

An hour later, Rose wished Matron Redfern a polite good night before shutting her door quietly. Thank god she had the library to work on, because otherwise the polite choreography of the social life at the Farringham School for Boys would drive her mad. She hadn't heard so many thinly veiled inquiries about her future, relationship-wise, since the last time Jackie got drunk. Apparently being a young single woman working for a living meant she was killing time until she found a husband to support her, in these days.

She laughed a little to herself, slipping out of her day clothes and into a comfortable—and appropriately modest, if not a little anachronistic—calf-length sweatshirt. In a way, she _was_ just waiting for a certain man to come along, but not how any of the irritatingly courteous busybodies imagined. She pictured telling the pompous little Assistant Headmaster that she was waiting for her alien to come back to himself so they could travel the stars together again and giggled. His badly toupeed head would explode.

Rose sighed and laid down in her bed, forcing her mind to empty. Thinking about how long she had to wait to see him—_really_ him—again would only keep her awake, and she had to get up early in the morning. Her eyes slipped shut, and she slept.

_A gold-orange sun lit the sky, reflecting across the barren landscape. Rose shivered and tucked her hands in her pockets, drinking in the sight in front of her: sharp, dark mountains and plateaus, and the elegant dragon-like creatures that lived there. _

_The Doctor stood beside her, radiating contentment. "Interesting creatures, the Nehilim. The average lifespan is at least a couple centuries, and yet they mate for life. If anything happens to their mate, they go on living—but they never look for another." _

_After a few silent minutes, he looked over at her as a pair of dragons soared into flight together. He cleared his throat. "How long are you going to stay with me?"_

_Rose smiled. "Forever."_

Rose woke with a gasp, her heart pounding against her ribs. That wasn't a dream. That was a memory, one of her dearest, and she'd _been_ there. She'd smelled the acrid tang of the air on Kranos, felt the whip of the chill wind. She'd seen the quiet joy in the Doctor's eyes when she'd replied—blimey, she probably could've counted his freckles.

She sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears, trembling. In the years since she'd been separated from the Doctor, she'd dreamt of their travels many times, but never with that living clarity. This was something different, something new.

Rose got out of bed and fetched the leather-bound journal from her suitcase, unlocking it with the small silver key that hung next to her TARDIS key. She wrapped a warm shawl around her shoulders and sat at the desk, staring blankly into the fire-lit dimness of the room. She'd started the journal after her first Bad Wolf dreams had begun as a way of documenting what she was going through and proving to herself that she wasn't mad. After her healing ability had kicked in, though, she'd switched to using it to chronicle the changes she'd discovered in herself.

Rose smiled and lit the small oil-lamp on the desk, pulling her mechanical pencil from the drawer. Mickey would laugh if he ever found out how much of the top-secret Project Bad Wolf was contained within her journal's pages. Most of the changes she'd gone through were physical—no more aging, accelerated healing, stamina like she'd never had before when she was out in the field—but the dreams had been... odd. It was as there was something inside her directing her, but it wasn't something she could access.

Back in Pete's World, she'd thought it was the TARDIS. The dream she'd just had wasn't about the TARDIS, though. It was about the Doctor. It wasn't even anything remarkable, in comparison to some of their other exploits—just a quiet moment of understanding between them that even now warmed Rose to her very bones.

Remembering the smile that lit his face as he looked at her, Rose smiled herself. No matter how long she had to wait, she would. After all, after four years of being separated by the very walls of the universe, now only wood and plaster separated them—and maybe brick, she didn't know. Early twentieth century architecture wasn't exactly her forte. She snorted and documented her dream before snuffing out the lamp and moving over to the armchair, staring out the window at the dawn-grey world.

A knock on the door woke her from a light doze sometime later, and Rose blinked against the morning light. "Come in."

Martha opened the door carefully, balancing a full meal-tray as she did so.

Rose jumped up to help her, chagrined. "Oh, you should've said something! God, I feel like such an idiot. Here, there should be space on the table."

Martha smiled tightly, shadows under her eyes. "It's all right, Rose. It is my job, after all."

"Yeah, well, it shouldn't be." Rose yawned as she looked over the meal tray. "Hey, have you had breakfast yet? This is plenty enough for two."

Martha paused for a moment before joining her at the table, pouring herself a cup of tea and helping herself to a warm muffin. She bit into it and sighed happily, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, this is gorgeous. The maids always get the leftovers, an' by the time we actually get back to the kitchen, they've all gone stone cold."

Rose munched on her own breakfast and tilted her head, curious. "Y'know, I never asked. What were you planning to be, back home?"

"I was in training to be a doctor, actually. Only a couple years away now."

Rose grinned. "A doctor with the Doctor."

Martha rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, the Doctor made that joke, too."

Rose giggled. "Well, he always was fond of a good pun. Problem is, he likes bad puns even more."

"Oh, I _know_! Sometimes I just want to be like, 'Him? That bloke in the suit? No, I don't know him at all. Why do you ask?'"

"I tried that, a couple times." Rose wrinkled her nose. "They never believed me, for some reason. Probably the Doctor following me around, pouting at me. He gets so pissy when you don't acknowledge him."

Martha giggled into her teacup. "Honestly, he's just like my brother Leo's puppy sometimes."

Rose snorted and grinned. "I can just see it—he'd be like an Irish Setter, all scruffy hair and big brown eyes." She paused, considering. "'Course, he'd probably be happy to be ginger."

They settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying the slow peace of the early morning. After finishing her breakfast, Martha checked her small silver wristwatch and sighed. "That was lovely, but I've got to get back to the kitchen an' get the next tray ready."

Rose swallowed the last of her tea and nodded, helping Martha pile the dishes carefully on the tray. "I'm done, then. See you later."

"Later."

Rose shut the door behind Martha and changed, brushing her hair into order and tucking it up into a simple bun. At least organizing the library would give her mind time to settle after that odd dream this morning. She made her way downstairs and opened the door, sighing as she looked over the ramshackle collection. First things first: opening the shades, to let in some actual light.

A few minutes later a throat was cleared in the doorway, and she turned to find the Doctor—_John Smith_—smiling hesitantly at her, his arms filled with books. "Good morning, Rose." He flushed. "I mean, Miss Tyler."

She smiled and turned back to the shelves. "Rose is fine, Mr. Smith."

"Well, if you're Rose, then I must be John." He paused for a moment, and then seemed to recall himself. "Right. I was free of students for a moment, and I thought I might make your life a bit easier by bringing some of the books I've borrowed back." He smiled lopsidedly, and Rose bit the inside of her cheek. "It's not all of them, certainly, but I'm not certain I could have managed walking and carrying them at the same time of I had all of them."

Rose laughed. "Just some is all right, John, as long as you don't plan on keeping the rest forever."

John stiffened at the last word, his gaze flying to her face. His dark brown eyes bored into hers.

_Well, that was different._

Rose cleared her throat. "If you could just set the books on the table, here, that'd be lovely."

"Yes, right." He set them down and paused, still staring at her, before shaking his head. "Well, the classes await. Have a good day, Miss Tyler. Rose."

"You as well, John." When he left, Rose sat shakily at her desk. Well. It seemed she may not have been the only one dreaming, last night. It looked like it was time to put her Torchwood psychic training into use and start putting up shields before she went to sleep.

The day passed quietly as Rose worked her way through the ramshackle collection. No students or staff came to the doors and she sighed as she leaned against her desk, tucking the strands of hair that had fallen loose behind her ears. Much more of this quiet and she might go mad.

A knock sounded at the door, and Rose hid a relieved grin as she turned around. A plump curly-haired girl stood in the doorway, a small tray in her hands. She smiled cheerfully. "Hello, miss. I've just brought you some lunch."

"Oh. Thank you!" Rose straightened and hurriedly cleared a spot on the desk, stepping back as the maid set her tray down carefully. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

The maid raised her eyebrows as she turned to go. "Jenny, miss."

"Well, thanks for this, Jenny." Rose grinned easily at the girl, who smiled uncertainly back.

"If that's all you'll be needing, then, I'll head back to the kitchens."

Rose's grin faded as Jenny fidgeted. "Think that's it, yeah—should I drop it off when I'm done?"

Jenny's eyes widened, and she gave Rose a quick up-and-down glance. "No need for that, Miss Tyler. Just leave it on the desk, and somebody'll be by to pick it up when you're done."

"Oh, I can take care of it myself—it's no bother, really."

"It's not a bother, though. It's a job." The girl flushed and ducked her head, fidgeting with her apron. "Beggin' your pardon, miss. I'd better go check an' see if the cook needs me." She hurried out the door and Rose sat down with a thump, absently stirring the chunky stew she'd been left.

She sighed. "Well, that went over like a lead balloon." Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing out the small headache she'd woken up with. She couldn't shake the sense of lingering anticipation that raised the hair on the back of her neck, the intangible sense that something was coming. She stared gloomily at the dim and disheveled library and grimaced as she jerked her long skirt out from beneath her chair leg. "I can't _wait_ until we can get out of here."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The days passed quietly, as Rose moved back and forth between the school, the TARDIS, and the small village. Farringham had a small bookshop, and she found herself stopping in anytime she was free of responsibilities. Any reminders that the world was larger than this small village were welcome—as was the fact that a certain John Smith also frequented the bookshop. By the end of her wait here, Rose was certain that the words '_He's not him_' would be tattooed on the inside of her eyelids, she repeated them to herself often enough.

John Smith was a sweet man, even if he wasn't the Doctor, but they were similar enough to give her near constant déjà vu. She called Mickey to check for the Family every once in a while, but wherever they were, it wasn't here. Martha still joined her for breakfast every morning, and the Matron began treating her a bit more coldly as John (as he insisted on being called) treated her ever more warmly.

It was mid-morning one day as Rose was in the library when a sound from the hallway caught her attention. She opened the door and saw a small blond schoolboy surrounded by three older boys, their fists raised menacingly.

She stepped into the hallway, eyes blazing. "Excuse me! What do you think you're doing?"

The oldest boy, an aristocratic-looking brunette, smiled in a way that he probably thought was ingratiating. "Nothing to bother you with, Miss Tyler. Latimer here is just a bit late on his promises."

"Yes, well, it _does_ bother me. Latimer, was it?" The blond boy nodded warily. "I find myself in need of assistance in the library. If you would be so kind?"

He walked into the library, glancing nervously behind himself at the three older boys, who were glaring unabashedly at him.

Rose shut the door firmly on them and shook her head. "That's rid of them, for the moment." She sighed and glanced at the boy. "I didn't really ask, but are you free at the moment? I wanted you away from them, but I really _could_ use some help."

He blinked at her and spoke for the first time. "Yes, Miss. I mean, I'm free. I have an open period at the moment."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd hate to think that I got you in trouble. Here, I'll organize the books and you can re-shelve them." They worked in silence a few moments, both of them caught up in their own thoughts.

Rose cleared her throat as she stacked Catullus and Callimachus. She glanced at him. "I'm sorry, I never got your full name."

His voice was whisper-quiet as he filled in the shelves. "Timothy, Miss. Timothy Latimer."

She shot him a quick smile, her voice soft. "I've dealt with a few bullies in my day, Mr. Latimer." He looked at her, surprised, and she continued. "They'll do their best to make it seem like their behavior is your fault, but they're wrong. Every time they treat you badly, every harsh word they say, it's only a reflection of their own character, _never_ yours. If you ever need to get away, Mr. Latimer, the library is always open to you. I won't let anything like that happen in here, no matter the blind eye most of the staff seems to think is best."

Latimer swallowed and nodded, blinking his eyes quickly. "Thanks, Miss."

There was a noise at the door and Rose looked over to see Martha standing there, her dark eyes wide. She looked at Latimer and her eyebrows twisted.

Rose cleared her throat and met Martha's eyes. "There you are, Miss Jones. If you could fetch me the list we were discussing, I forgot it this morning. It should be in the top drawer of my desk."

Martha stared at her for a moment before her understanding set in, and she nodded emphatically. "At once, Miss Tyler."

She hurried off and Rose went back to organizing the library, biting the inside of her cheek. Martha _never_ panicked. What had happened?

When she returned a few minutes later, Rose calmly accepted the note she was handed and turned away from Latimer to open it.

_The pocket watch is gone_. Her eyes widened, and she turned to stare at Martha. The other woman nodded at her, looking dismayed.

"I think I'll need your help later in the afternoon, Miss Jones, if you could find the time—perhaps after the lunch hour?"

"Of course, Miss Tyler." She bobbed a curtsy and left as Rose slipped the note back in her pocket.

She smiled robotically at Tim Latimer, who frowned a little. "Are you all right, Miss Tyler?"

She blinked at him and smiled distractedly. "I'm fine, Mr. Latimer. Just realized I misplaced something, is all."

The day wore on, and Latimer left for lunch. Not many people used the library, Rose was beginning to realize—just the teachers and, on rare occasions, the more diligent students. There was a knock at the door, and Rose opened it to find Martha standing there with a lunch tray. "Oh, good. I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it." She shut the door behind her and joined Martha at her desk. "So what happened?"

"God, I don't know. He keeps the watch on his mantel—well, I say he keeps, but he's not really aware of it. He just thinks it's some old family heirloom. But it's been there since we started here, and when I took him his breakfast this morning, it was gone. After he left for class I checked for it as I cleaned his room, but it's not there. It's not anywhere. Somebody must've stolen it." Rose handed Martha a plate, and she nibbled her food discontentedly. "If whoever it is opens it, though, it's all over. He said that was what did it, you see. Open the watch, and the Doctor comes back."

Rose paled. "And there's still another month to go. I've got to talk to Mickey."

"I've got a free afternoon coming up today, I'll go. I was planning on dropping the TARDIS, anyway." Even as nervous as she was, Martha was blushing.

Rose hid a grin, taking a bite of her lunch. "Right. Make sure to ask him about containment technology—if the Family arrive, we have to ensure there are no civilian casualties."

Martha blinked, but nodded. "I'm off in about an hour, I'll head over then."

Rose sighed and rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the knot of tension sitting low in her stomach. "I hate the waiting, I really do. No wonder the Doctor's always on the move."

Martha grimaced. "I know what you mean. Since I've been travellin' with him, even standing in line makes me antsy. I don't know how I'm going to go back to my studies."

Rose looked at Martha, surprised. "Oh. Are you not staying, then?"

The other woman sighed. "No offense, Rose, but it was hard enough to live with you and him when you_ weren't_ there. Soon as the Doctor comes back, I think it's time I get out. Focus on my family again, finish school." She smiled crookedly. "After all, I always knew this wasn't forever."

Rose caught her hand, brown eyes meeting brown. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Martha smiled lopsidedly. "I've needed to do this for a while, if I'm honest with myself."

Rose pulled her into a hug suddenly, holding her close. "I'm going to miss you."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll miss you, too." Martha pulled back and wiped at her eyes, laughing a little. "But hey, you've got a mobile, which is more than I can say for himself. You'd better keep in contact, yeah?"

"I will." Rose laughed and helped her clean up the lunch tray. "You won't be rid of me that easily." A pulse of _something_ flashed through Rose's mind and she stumbled, catching her hip at the edge of the desk. She blinked back confusion, clutching her forehead, and slowly came back to the library and Martha's worried voice.

Martha had settled her in a chair, kneeling in front of her and checking her pulse. "Rose? _Rose?_ You all right?"

"Rose? Are you ill?" Both women turned to see John Smith standing in the doorway.

Rose straightened, clearing her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a sudden headache, is all."

He flushed and tugged on his earlobe in a move that was achingly familiar. "I'm sorry to intrude if this is a bad time, but I came by to drop off some more books."

Martha spoke up, watching her carefully. "If you're sure you're all right, Miss Tyler, I'll be off."

Rose blinked and focused on Martha again. "Yes, thank you, Miss Jones. That's all, for now."

Martha smiled tightly at Rose and left, skirting around John at the doorway. He set his books down on the table and came over to her, watching her carefully. "Are you certain you're feeling well? You still seem a little pale."

She smiled up at him and stood, fighting off dizziness. "Really, I'm fine. No need to make a fuss."

He smiled down at her, watching her curiously. "If you're sure." He cleared his throat suddenly and looked at the table. "I brought back more of your collection—it seems every time I think I've found them all, more pop up." He smiled nervously at her and rubbed the back of his neck.

Rose smiled up at him, her eyes dancing. "Gee, I wonder why that is?" She glanced at the books and grinned. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that several books from Barkely's Bookshop have found their way in here, would it?"

He flushed violently and coughed lightly into his hand. "Well, there were several I ran across that seemed like they would fit rather well into your collection." He glanced down at her, his ears bright red. "Not that I'm impugning your selection, of course."

"'Course not." He began to stammer out another apology, and she rested her hand on his arm. "Really, John, I'm not offended. They fit in quite well, and they're interesting reads."

He blinked, caught off guard. "You're read them?"

"Some of 'em." She shrugged. "I've got to have somethin' to do in my evenings."

"I see." He flushed and looked down, tucking his hands in his pockets. "If you ever wanted something else to read, I… I've actually done some writing myself."

Rose blinked and raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"It's not much, nothing serious, of course, but…" He glanced at her, his ears turning bright red. "I've been having these dreams, you see. I dream I'm this madman adventurer, roaming the stars." He chuckled a little and shook his head suddenly. "It's quite mad, of course. Forget I said anything."

Rose bit her lip and caught his hand as he turned to go. "No, John, I'd love to hear about it." She smiled lopsidedly. "It sounds fascinating."

"R…Really?" He flushed and cleared his throat. "Well, I've got a few of them written out. Perhaps I could show them to you later?"

Rose looked down, a faint pink staining her cheeks. "I'd like that."

"Right." He smiled suddenly, the Doctor's wide, joyous smile, and she felt her heart twist within her chest. "Later it is, then. For now, though, I'd better go—classes await, after all." He paused in the doorway, his eyes tracing her face. "Goodbye, Rose."

"Goodbye, John." The door closed behind him and she sat at her desk, dropping her head onto her crossed arms with a groan. "Oh, _brilliant_. This is a fine muddle you've gotten yourself in, Tyler."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

There was a quiet knock at the door several minutes later, and Rose raised her head hurriedly to find Timothy Latimer standing there, his tie a little askew and his breath fast. "Sorry to bother you, Miss, but I was wondering if you needed any more help?"

Her eyebrows drew together and she joined him at the doorway just in time to see the backs of the older boys from earlier disappearing around the corner. She sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him. "No, that'd be lovely. Your tie's a bit crooked, by the way."

He ducked his head and straightened it, and she bit her lip at the rapidly swelling mark on his left cheekbone.

"They been bothering you again?"

He looked up quickly, a blush rising in his pale cheeks, and swallowed. "I should've been more careful, that's all."

"No, somebody else should've stopped them." He ducked his head again and she brushed his ruffled blond hair down carefully. "It's not your fault, Tim. Don't let them make you think that way. Now come on, we'll do some work, yeah?"

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, and as Rose locked up the doorway after sending Latimer off for supper Martha came hurrying down the hallway. Rose's eyes widened. "What is it?"

Martha looked around the hallway and lowered her voice. "Your room."

They made their way to her room quickly, ignoring the odd looks at the librarian and the maid hurrying off together. Rose shut the door behind them and plopped down on her bed, rubbing her forehead. "So, what happened? What's Mickey got to say?"

Martha paused for a moment, her training coming to the forefront. "Are you sure you're all right, Rose? That episode at lunch seemed a bit nasty..."

Rose clenched her jaw impatiently. "I'm _fine_, honestly. Now what'd you learn?"

"All right!" Martha snorted and set herself primly on Rose's armchair. "Whatever it was that happened to you earlier, it wasn't exactly subtle. Mickey's instruments went mad just about the same time."

Rose paled. "D'you think the Family noticed?"

Martha stared down at her hands, which were tightly clasped together. "I don't know. All we can do is wait, now." She took a deep, shuddering breath suddenly, her eyes shut tight. "I was supposed to take care of him. He was depending on me, an' I let him down."

"Martha, no." Rose was across the room in a blink, her arms around Martha's shaking shoulders. "This isn't your fault."

"I should've kept it somewhere safer, I should've had it on me—"

"And what? Gotten fired for stealing from him? No." Rose shook her head. "You couldn't have known."

Another wave crashed over Rose's mind, an ancient alien presence that reached for her with a desperation and a longing that brought tears to her eyes. It shut off moments later and she found herself crouched on the floor, gasping for breath and sobbing. Martha knelt in front of her, dark eyes worried. "Rose? Same as earlier?"

She nodded shakily, wincing at the throbbing in her head. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "Same." A rough buzz came from her pocket, and she pulled out her phone and handed it to Martha, stumbling over to her washbasin to splash her face.

Martha flipped it open, her forehead creased. "Mickey? Yeah, 's me. No, she just had another episode—a bad one." She listened for a moment and paled. "No."

A green flash of light streaked through the sky, and Rose swore. She spun to face Martha, eyes huge. "Tell me that's not what I think it was."

Martha swallowed as she stared up at her, still listening to Mickey. "It was."

"Bollocks." Rose ran a hand over her hair distractedly and opened her suitcase, pulling on her trousers and work boots under her skirt and strapping on her thigh holster. A knock came at her door, and she groaned and went to open it as Martha ducked behind her wardrobe.

John stood on the other side, his brow furrowed in worry. "Rose? I'm sorry to disturb you, but you missed supper—" He paused and took in her pale skin and over-bright eyes. "Are you feeling quite well?"

Rose sighed and leaned against the door, ensuring her heavy combat boots couldn't be seen. "I think I've had a relapse. John, I'm so sorry, but could I beg off seeing your book tonight?"

"Of course, don't worry about that." He hesitated for a moment before brushing a hand gently over her forehead. "Do you want me to fetch Matron Redfern for you?"

She shook her head hurriedly and winced as the pounding in her head grew stronger. "No need, really, John. I just think I need some rest. "

"If you're sure." She nodded emphatically before slowing her movements to a dainty bob. He smiled crookedly down at her. "Rest well, then, Rose. I hope you feel better in the morning." He paused before catching her hand up in his and laying a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Good night."

"Good night, John." She smiled back at him as she closed the door, resting her forehead against the solid wood with a heavy sigh.

Martha cleared her throat, coming out from behind the wardrobe with crossed arms. "What was it you were sayin' just a few weeks ago about keeping your distance?"

Rose looked up with a guilty blush, her eyes wide. "I didn't mean for it to happen this way."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "What, you thought seein' the man you loved around you every day and not doin' anything about it was going to be easy? Rose, I know just how hard it is. Only in my case, he doesn't love me back." Rose began to protest, and Martha raised a hand impatiently. "Don't even try, Rose. Let's just get out of here and go deal with this whole mess."

Rose swallowed and switched her delicate blouse for the body armor she'd brought from Torchwood, strapping her shoulder holster into place. She pulled on her blue jacket over everything and shrugged it into place, grimacing at the tight fit. "Right, time to get out of here." Martha headed for the door, and she shook her head impatiently. "No, we can't go out that way—it'll break cover. Better to go this way." She walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a long rope, attaching it to the heavy pipes in the wall with a sturdy knot. Noticing Martha's confused expression, Rose grinned. "Bless the TARDIS. She always knows what I'll need, even before I do." She creaked the window open and looked out into the back yard, checking for occupants. "What's the staff up to about now, Martha?"

"Cleanin' up from dinner—the coast should be clear for a while." Rose nodded and slipped out the window silently, and after a moment Martha followed her. She shivered in the chill air as they hurried to the shed where their bikes were kept, pulling them out quietly.

Rose glanced at her and frowned, pulling off her jacket and tossing it to Martha. "Here, you need this more than I do—my Kevlar'll keep me warm."

"What if someone sees you?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be in my room anyway, so… " She sighed and kicked off. "We'll deal with that when we come to it, I guess."

Martha and Rose pedaled quickly through the twilight dimness, following the familiar path to the TARDIS. Mickey was waiting outside the barn, his Torchwood uniform on and a frown on his face. Rose jumped off her bike and stuck it in the barn, shimmying out of the cumbersome skirt and grabbing the sonic rifle from Mickey's pile of equipment. "What do we know, Mick?"

"They're here. The scanner's showing their craft in a field about 200 meters west from here."

"Cooper's field." Martha tightened her jaw and glanced at Rose's uniform. "You have any extra body armor? A well-starched apron won't do much good, I'm guessing."

"You sure you want to come with us?"

She nodded emphatically. "I let 'im down once already. I'm not going to do it again."

Rose pulled out her spare Torchwood jacket as Martha hurried back to her room to change. Mickey watched the hallway Martha had disappeared down, his eyebrows drawn together. He glanced and Rose and frowned. "You sure we should let her go along? She doesn't have the battle experience we do, and the Family are a nasty group."

"She's traveled with the Doctor for months, Mickey. She knows how to handle herself."

"Yeah, but what if they attack her mind, huh? What then? You got any mental armor you can offer her?"

Rose laid a hand on his arm, the solid tendons under his skin standing out harshly. "That's why I got you to set up the containment equipment, Mickey. She's not going into this blind, and she's not going into this unprotected. After all, you're watchin' her back." She winked at him, her tongue peeking out from her grin. "In more ways than one."

Martha came back in then, fastening the belt on her black jeans. Rose tossed her the jacket lightly, and she let out a puff of air as she caught it. "Blimey, this thing's heavy."

"Yeah, but it'll keep you safe against almost any physical attacks. Mental ones, though, we've got somethin' else to deal with—you got it, Mick?"

Mickey nodded. "Ready an' waitin', Rose." He pulled out a trio of slender mechanical towers, each about the height of Rose's hip. "These things need to be set up in a triangle formation around the enemy's craft, once we get to Cooper's field—I've got 'em set up to recognize each of our mental signatures, an' once they're in formation, they'll hold anything but us in place." He shot a look at Martha. "If one of these things goes for you, Martha, get outside the formation and you'll be protected. Here." He handed a tower to each of them, and Rose slung the strap over her shoulder.

After watching her, Martha did the same. She swallowed. "So, how do we get over there, then? Bike it, or what?"

Mickey shook his head. "Nah, we don't have enough bikes—plus, I doubt the paths are clear. We've got to stay out of sight, people. I doubt the residents of Farringham would feel all that comfortable with shadowy figures running around with guns."

Martha sighed and adjusted her strap. "Speak for yourself. I haven't got one." She blinked and caught the pistol Mickey tossed to her, a slow grin growing on her face as she slipped it into her jacket's built-in holster. "Well, all right then."

Rose cleared her throat. "Remember, containment first—but if you're in any danger at all, either one of you, get outside the field."

Mickey nodded brusquely and led them into the night, following the steady beeping of his scanner. Martha was following him closely, and Rose bit her lip as she took up the rear. The Bad Wolf had healed her before, protected her, but Mickey and Martha had no such creature on their side. _Whatever happens, they're coming out of this safe. _She refused to consider the alternative.

A half hour later Mickey signaled a stop silently, pulling them up short at the edge of an empty field. Rose stepped closer, looking over the grassy expanse carefully. She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "This it, then?"

"According to my scans, yeah." His jaw tightened. "With a cloaking device like this, you can bet they won't leave their ship unprotected—spread out an' get the towers set up, but _be careful._"

Martha and Rose nodded grimly and began skirting the area, splitting away from Mickey's tower and counting their steps. As Rose reached her mark and activated the shield, a sudden rustle from the woods caught her attention.

She slipped behind a nearby tree and pulled out her stun gun, silently cursing the blonde hair that made her stick out like a sore thumb. The nearby bushes parted, and the aristocratic boy that had been bullying Latimer stepped through. _Baines, that was it. What the bloody hell is he doing here? _He stepped forward, eyes focused on the silver tower that was now pulsating with light. Rose tightened the sweaty grip on her gun. _As long as he stays on this side of it… _He stepped around it into the containment field, and she groaned. Moments later a streak of violently green light exploded from the empty field, skidding through the air directly towards Baines.

Rose cursed and dove out from behind her tree, sprinting across the space between them and throwing herself in front of the frozen imbecile. The light hit with a violent crash, and she blacked out with a scream.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Just a quick note: I've got an illustration for this chapter up on my deviantART account, if anyone's curious.**

Chapter 9

Mickey started forward from his post with a shout, his blaster falling out of his hands with a forgotten thump. "ROSE!" He reached the edge of the field and bounced off, the area he'd hit sparking gold. "_Rose?_" A noise came from behind him and he looked back to find John Smith standing at the edge of the field, his brown eyes wide. "Aw, sh—"

Golden light exploded from Rose's crumpled figure and she rose from the faded grass to float in the air, her eyes streaming molten gold. "Stay away, dear one. This is mine." Golden sparks crackled from each of the towers, meshing together to create a glowing pen. Mickey scrambled backwards, stumbling to his feet with wide eyes.

Rose had turned back to the field, and with a raised hand she summoned three other glowing green lights from the empty field. A low hum of angry voices filled the air but she ignored them, instead breathing out the putrid green light that had hit her before. Soon all four were twisted together in front of her, twirling and shifting in a sickening miasma of color. They joined together and shot towards her, and she batted them away impatiently. Her golden eyes flashed, and her voice carried eerily throughout the field. "You sought to consume the heart of Time, to leave her empty and grieving without her Champion." The glowing presences began to shudder, and she slowly closed her fist. "She has no mercy for you. Your time is at an end." As her hand tightened the lights contracted, pulling in more and more tightly until they imploded with a deafening bang.

* * *

><p>Mickey shook his head, tapping his ear carefully. The heavy buzz that filled his ears faded, and he realized with a start that the golden fence was gone. Rose lay crumpled on the ground, looking like a marionette with her strings cut. There was a noise from behind her, and Mickey looked up to see the little rotter that she'd saved disappearing into the woods. Another figure rushed past Mickey, and John Smith threw himself on his knees next to Rose.<p>

"Rose? _Rose?_" John shakily reached out a hand to check her pulse, and Mickey noticed Martha hurrying over to join them. He caught her eye and shook his head, sketching a 'T' with his hands. She nodded reluctantly and faded back into the woods, and Mickey joined John Smith at Rose's side.

The man glared at him, and Mickey blinked and shook his head. "Now that's disturbin'."

John's jaw dropped open, and his glare turned confused. "We just watched a woman glow like a living flame, and you think _I'm _disturbing?"

"Mate, if you knew my life, that wouldn't be a surprise."

John tensed as Mickey came closer, leaning over Rose protectively. "I'm not your mate, sir. I don't know who you are, but I warn you—harm her, and you'll be sorry."

Mickey raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms. "Yeah? How? You going to talk me to death? If you hadn't noticed, I'm the one who's armed." He sighed and shook his head, dropping to the other side of Rose. "Besides, hurting her's the last thing I'd do." He brushed Rose's hair out of her face, and John's jaw clenched. "I've known Rose since we were kids—I'd sooner step in front of a bus than harm her."

"A bus…?" John's eyebrows were drawn together, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

"Right, I forgot. Let's pretend I said carriage there, yeah?" He pulled out a small torch and carefully pried her eyelids open, checking her pupils, and John reached out and grabbed his arm.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Mickey shook him off and glared at him. "Checkin' her responses, you idiot. I may not be a doctor like M—" He caught himself. "I may not be a doctor, but I've been through Torchwood's basic training. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna check and see if she's goin' to be okay."

John reluctantly allowed him to continue, watching warily as Mickey checked her pulse and her breathing patterns. He cleared his throat. "Is she going to be all right?"

Mickey glanced up as he rearranged her limbs to a more comfortable position. "Dunno. I've never seen her go full-on Bad Wolf before—seen weird things happen around her, though. She was always pretty knackered afterwards, though." He leaned back on his heels and sighed, running a hand over his hair. "I'm kinda out of my depth here. Best I can say is that we wait for her to wake up, but it can't be here." He picked her up carefully, grunting a little at the weight.

"Right." John's jaw tightened as he looked at Rose, her skin paper-white in the moonlight. He followed Mickey out of the woods, watching them warily. "Who _is_ she? Who are you?"

Mickey looked up and frowned. "I'm… a friend. As for her, well, she's Rose. She's just the same as she's ever been." John snorted disbelievingly, and Mickey winced. "All right, maybe not exactly the same, but she's still the same person."

John's jaw tightened. "The same person that's been leading me on for weeks, pretending to be a well-bred lady."

Mickey's lips twitched in spite of himself. "Now that doesn't sound much like Rose." A low, angry noise came from the schoolteacher, and Mickey rolled his eyes. "Oi, mate, calm down. She's not a different person from yesterday—an' don't think you not knowin' was easy on her."

John sneered as he ducked under a tree branch. "Oh yes, what a tragedy. She had to watch me, knowing that I was entirely ignorant of this… this _farce_."

They stepped onto the road and Mickey blinked as he saw a small cart and horse waiting on the side of the road, Rose's skirt and jacket hung over the side. As he got closer, he noticed a small note pinned to the garments, just one letter written on it in a graceful cursive—_M_. He grinned. No wonder the Doctor had Martha travelling with him.

Mickey laid Rose in the back, turning to the clothes with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to John with a grimace. "This is gonna look weird, but I'm just helpin' her blend in."

John frowned. "What do you mean?" Mickey picked up the skirt and started pulling it up Rose's legs, and he flushed. "_Oh._" His jaw tightened. "Have much experience dressing her, do you?"

Mickey tugged the jacket over Rose's arms, closing it carefully to hide the stiff grey body armor she was wearing. He glanced back at John with a scowl. "Oi, mate, you really think this is the time to be getting sarky?"

"I don't know _what_ I should be doing! A few minutes ago I was following that blasted fool Baines as he was trying to break curfew, and now I have no idea what's going on. You're a 'friend' who won't even tell me his name, Rose is... is a _freak_, and I have no idea where my student ran off to. Tell me, what's the appropriate etiquette here, hmm?"

Mickey settled Rose carefully and stepped to the front of the cart, hoisting himself up and glaring back at John. "The name's Mickey Smith. Now, I have no problem leaving your self-righteous arse out here in the dark, but Rose would probably be ticked at me if I did. I _am_ gonna make sure she's all right, though. If you don't care about that, then find your own way back."

John paused for a moment, his shoulders tense, before reluctantly joining Mickey on the front of the cart.

There was a pause, and Mickey cleared his throat. "Actually, do you know how to handle horses?" At John's disbelieving look, he shrugged. "'S not like there are plenty of 'em around, where I come from."

John took the reins reluctantly and started the horse moving, his brow furrowed. He glanced at Mickey as they jolted their way towards the school. "So where _do_ you come from?"

"London. Not a part of it you'd've heard of, though."

"And Rose…?"

"Same place. Her family lived just down the block from mine, actually."

John glanced back at her still form, her combat boots poking out from beneath the long skirt.

"How the hell did she end up out here, working in a library and chasing away monsters?"

Mickey winced and ran a hand over his hair. Martha had told him what the Chameleon Arch had done to the Doctor, and that the watch had gone missing. Glancing at John Smith, Mickey somehow doubted he'd be happy to hear that he was nothing more than a construct, created to protect the _real_ Doctor. "It's… a long story."

John shot him a glare. "We've got time."

Mickey swallowed and cleared his throat, thinking fast. "Well, a couple years ago she met this guy—friend of the family, this old eccentric who liked to travel. He was gettin' a bit bored of travellin' on his own, so he invited her along."

John stiffened, one eyebrow raised high. "She went travelling with him alone?"

"It wasn't like anything was goin' to happen." Mickey shot a glance at John, his eyes sharp. "He was _way_ too old for her. But before you get all uptight about it, it wasn't just them. They had a chaperone with 'em." Mickey bit his cheek to keep from smirking. Of course, the chaperone had been Captain Jack Harkness, but that wasn't likely to reassure John's sensibilities. Actually, that wouldn't reassure _anyone's_ sensibilities.

"Anyway, the old guy introduced her to some people—this group called the Torchwood Institute. When the two of 'em stopped travellin' together, she picked up a job there."

"And what is it this 'Torchwood' does?"

"We mostly take care of things like you saw earlier—anythin' that can't be explained, we sort out. Or try to, at least."

The gates of the Farringham School were fast approaching, and Mickey grimaced. "Look, Mr. Smith, I think I'd better get out of here."

John sent him a scathing look and glanced behind them to Rose's still-unconscious body. "I thought you were going to make sure she was alright?"

Mickey snorted and slung Rose's equipment over her shoulder. If her jacket stayed on, nobody would notice anything odd about her. "She'll be alright. She's with you." He jumped off the cart into a roll and stood, saluting John quickly before heading back into the woods. Rose may have dealt with the Family, but maybe Pete's Torchwood could give him some ideas about what to do with their spaceship.

John pulled the horse up to a stop at the side door, his shoulders tensed. His life was quiet and calm and he _liked_ it. Then Rose Tyler walked in from his dreams, and now everything was falling apart. Everything about her was familiar—the smile that haunted him even before he knew her, the way her hand fit in his own. Hell, even the echoing voice and burning eyes from the field were familiar, he did _not_ want to think about why that was. He jumped down from the cart and gathered her in his arms, and the door opened hurriedly. Jenny and Martha stood in the doorway, their eyes wide. Martha hurried forward, her apron disheveled and her breath ever-so-slightly short. She reached out and checked Rose's pulse carefully.

"What happened?"

John's swallowed. "We were walking back from town, and she collapsed."

Jenny raised a hand to her mouth, her normally flushed skin pale. "Oh, how awful!"

John spared her a short glance as he shouldered his way carefully through the doorway. "Don't bother with that, you silly girl, go fetch the matron! I'm taking her to the infirmary."

"I'll help." Martha's voice was steady, and he found himself grateful for her as she led the way, opening the doors and keeping a close eye on Rose. John laid her carefully down on the thin infirmary mattress and stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Martha checked her over carefully, raising an eyebrow at the body armor underneath the jacket. She didn't seem all that surprised, though. In fact, she had a spare blouse and pair of shoes waiting. She glanced at John and cleared her throat. "Mr. Smith, I'm going to have to ask you to leave—this clothing doesn't seem all that comfortable."

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll just… I'll just go, then." He turned the leave and paused at the door, something deeper than thought prompting him to ask, "You will tell me when she wakes up, won't you?"

Martha looked up at him, resigned and anxious and comforting all at once. "You can count on it."

"Good." At that he left, closing the door softly behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Martha slipped into the infirmary in the late evening, pulling off her maid's cap with a sigh. Rose lay on the bed, the slow rise and fall of her chest the only movement she made. It'd been four days now since John Smith had brought her back, and there hadn't been any change since. Matron Redfern had no idea what was wrong with her—granted, she didn't say that herself, but Martha had been around enough medical professionals to know when 'let her rest' meant 'I don't know'. Mickey had called to let her know that he couldn't contact the parallel world anymore, so that was out, as well.

Martha sat in the rickety chair next to Rose's bed and slouched down, resting her head on her propped-up arm. "Come on, Rose. You've got to wake up." She groaned and rubbed a hand over her face, wiping roughly at her eyes. "What else would he come back for?"

There was a creak at the doorway and she looked up to see a small blond boy standing there, his blue eyes wide. He had a hand in one pocket, and he clenched it convulsively. Martha drew her eyebrows together. Latimer, that was it. He'd been Rose's most faithful visitor over the last few days, always sitting with her when he didn't have class. Martha's hand tightened on her heavy skirt. It was more than John Smith was doing—he hadn't been to visit Rose since he first carried her in.

The boy cleared his throat, his voice low in the dim light of the room. "Sorry to intrude, miss."

Martha blinked and raised her eyebrows. "No need to apologize, Mr. Latimer. There's another chair here. I was just keeping her company."

"Good." He looked down and flushed. "It's good somebody's here." He walked over hesitatingly and sat down next to her, his right hand still deep in his pocket. He swallowed. "Is she going to be all right?"

Martha sighed again and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know. Her vitals are good, but she just… won't wake up." The silence between them was heavy, both of their attentions focused on the still figure on the bed. Tim's hand tightened, and a small click came from his pocket.

Rose suddenly arched on the bed, her back clenching in a vicious spasm. Golden light exhaled from her open mouth as Martha jumped up, her years of training setting her to restraining Rose's seizing body before she could even think. Tim blanched and pulled his hand out of his pocket, jumping up to stand beside her. "What is it? What's happened?"

After a few minutes Rose collapsed back onto the bed, her body gone abruptly loose. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed to be just as unconscious as she had been before. Martha checked her pulse and paled. "Something's gone wrong with her heart." Her eyes widened as she held her fingers against Rose's throat, and she darted over to the Matron's desk and pulled out her stethoscope. She hurried back and tested Rose's heartbeat, holding it gently to the left side of her chest. With trembling fingers, she shifted the old-fashioned stethoscope over to the right. After a long moment she sat back down, staring into nothing. "Oh, my god."

Tim frowned. "What happened?"

The door opened and John Smith entered hurriedly, his hair disheveled and his bow tie loose. There were heavy shadows under his eyes, and Martha frowned as she noticed the uneven stubble showing on his jaw. The Doctor wasn't the neatest person in the world, but John Smith was immaculate in his grooming—him looking this rough wasn't a good sign. He stopped at the foot of Rose's bed, his eyes tracing over her face anxiously. "She's still asleep?"

Martha raised an eyebrow at him, not bothering to get up from her chair. "Has been for four days. Not that you'd know." The latter sentence was spoken quietly, barely even a whisper, but John sent Martha a look of irritation and …guilt?

He cleared his throat. "Has she been asleep this whole time? I could've sworn, a moment ago…" He shook his head and ran a hand hastily through his head. "No, never mind. It's mad. This whole bloody thing is mad."

Martha glanced at Tim, unsure of what to do about the Doctor's—no, John Smith's—swearing, but Tim was staring at the schoolteacher with wide eyes. "It's you."

John blinked and lowered his hand from his hair, his eyebrows furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"You're him. The Doctor. I couldn't see it at first, couldn't see anything but her… but it's you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an elegantly etched fob watch, his pale hand trembling very slightly.

Martha gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, staring at the proffered watch. So _that's_ where it went.

John Smith stared down at it, confused and more than a little frightened. "But that's insane. The Doctor's just a dream, nothing real. And that's just a fob watch."

"It's not." John turned to stare at Martha, his dark brown eyes wide and pleading. She swallowed and continued. "You an' I, we showed up here together, right?"

"Of course we did—you've been with my family for years, Martha." He started to back away from the bed but Rose shifted toward him, a faint sound of protest slipping out of her lips. He stepped closer to her immediately, almost helplessly.

Martha shook her head slowly. "If that's true, then tell me this: what was your mother's name? Your father's?"

"It was… it was… " John's hand reached out to grab Rose's even as he stared wildly at Martha. "This is madness. Why am I listening to this?" He looked down at Rose's hand, wrapped in his own, and dropped it as if it scalded him.

Martha watched him carefully. "My parent's names are Clive and Francine Jones. My older sister's name is Tish—she works in public relations—and my younger brother's name is Leo. He and his girlfriend have a little girl together, Keisha. She's terribly spoiled, but we all love her. You and I? We only met a few months ago, when the hospital I work for got teleported to the moon." She smiled nervously. "We had to deal with a platoon of Judoon on the moon, remember?"

He shook his head emphatically, running a hand through his hair. "No. No, this is mad. Martha, you've been traumatized somehow—you've worked for my family for years."

"No, I haven't. A few years ago, I'd never met you, an' I was just starting my medical training." She sighed and held up her hand. "Look: bones of the hand. Carpal bones, proximal row: scaphoid, lunate, triquetral, pisiform. Distal row: trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metacarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges: proximal, middle, distal. "

He stumbled back towards the door and Martha stood, her voice going higher with nerves. "Don't you what's really going on? Who you really are? Don't you want to know what happened the other night, out in the field?"

"It was a hallucination, it had to be."

Tim's voice broke in, steady and distant. His eyes were glued to the watch in his hand. "The Wolf howled."

Martha stared at the boy, confused. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

John paused before shutting the door, leaning against it and watching Martha warily. "I could ask the same of you."

She remembered with a jolt that he'd never actually seen her, that night in Copper's Field. She swallowed. "You've dreamt of me before, though. That we travelled together."

His eyebrows drew down, and he crossed his arms nervously. "That… those were just dreams." His eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you find my journal?"

"Those weren't just dreams—they _happened_. Shakespeare? We had to save 'im from the witches, the Carrionites. We went to New Earth together, an' I got kidnapped by some carpoolers. My sister Tish invited us to Professor Lazarus' party, an' we had to save the day when he turned into that scorpion thing." John back up against the door, reaching for the knob, and Martha tightened her jaw and gestured at Rose. "D'you want to know why she seemed so familiar? It's 'cause she loves you, the _real_ you, and you've been in love with her since before I met you."

"So all of this is a lie? Everything that I am? This life, it's just a joke—you expect me to go back to a life of chaos and pain and endless loneliness?"

"It's not all chaos, though! There's so much beauty out there, so much joy—an' you showed me that. An' yeah, you were lonely when I met you. But that's not true any more." Martha beckoned him closer and groaned when he ignored her. "Oh, just come on. I'm not going to bite you." John stepped forward warily, and she gestured at Rose. "Check her pulse."

He reached out a hand and rested long fingers against her throat. After a moment, he paled and looked up at Martha, his eyes wide. "There's something wrong with her heart."

"Nah, her heart's just fine." She paused. "Both of them."

He jerked back, his gaze darting between Martha and Tim. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Why do this? Why do you care?"

Tim looked up from the watch, his blue eyes hazy. "The Doctor is the fulcrum of the universe. Without him, the balance would fall to chaos."

Martha swallowed. "The universe needs him. And he… he needs Rose."

There was a long silence as John looked at Rose. His hand had taken hers again, and he swallowed and tightened his grip. He glanced up at Tim and Martha and reached out his other hand for the watch, his freckles standing out like stains against his paper-white skin. Tim dropped in into his hand and stepped back, his eyes clearing. John turned back to Rose and spoke quietly. "Can you give us the room?"

Martha rested a hand on Tim's shoulder and steered him out the room, glancing behind her once more before closing the door quietly on them.

John stared at Rose—the long lashes that brushed her cheeks, the lips that were slightly parted as she slept. A small, half-formed smile tugged at his mouth. "Well, if it's my last chance…"

At that, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, his eyes clenched tight. A golden glow shone between them, and as he reluctantly lifted his head Rose's eyes slowly fluttered open. She smiled up at him, her eyes full of joy. "Doctor?"

"Soon, love." John's smile cracked, and as Rose's eyebrows furrowed he ducked his head and kissed her again, releasing the catch on the watch.

Outside the infirmary, Martha leaned back against the wall, her eyes shut tight against the brilliant light that shone around the door. The screams, though… those, she couldn't escape.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Rose stood near the gate outside the school, her loose hair blowing in the wind. The headmaster had been horrified when she handed in her resignation wearing trousers, but Rose couldn't care less. Martha had already left—Mickey had come to the school that morning to walk her to the TARDIS after her tearful goodbye with Jenny.

The gates creaked behind her and Rose glanced back to see the Doctor standing behind her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his familiar tan overcoat. He smiled forcedly at her, a shadow of his normal beaming grin. "Well, that's taken care of, then. John Smith has officially resigned."

Rose's jaw tightened and she picked up her suitcase and began the trek to the TARDIS. The Doctor winced and ran a hand through his hair as he followed her, ducking around her to reach for her suitcase. "Rose, let me."

"I can handle it, Doctor."

He dropped his hand hurriedly and stuffed his hands back in his pockets, walking beside her in silence. Rose's hand tightened on her suitcase handle, and she blinked back tears. The strain between them was nearly a living thing, its breath filling the silent air between them.

They reached the edge of the woods and the Doctor reached out suddenly and grabbed her arm, tugging her around to face him. "Rose, what is it? You haven't said a word to me since... since I changed back." His voice lowered, and she had to look down from the pain in his eyes. "Is it John? Do you want him back?"

She dropped her suitcase abruptly and smacked his arm, suddenly furious. "_No_, it's not that. Or yes, it is. Doctor, what were you _thinking?_"

He leaned back in surprise, his eyes going wide. "What do you mean?"

"You hid yourself as a human, leaving Martha to fend for herself and putting _everyone _around you in risk. What would've happened if Mickey and I weren't there, hmm? How was Martha supposed to protect you and the townspeople all by herself, with nothing but a video to guide her?" Her voice cracked suddenly, and the Doctor realized with a start that she was almost in tears. "What would've happened if you'd been hurt?"

He swallowed and rubbed a hand at the nape of his neck. "Rose, they'd caught my scent—if I hadn't disguised myself, they would've caught me right away."

She narrowed her eyes and poked him in the chest. "And what of it? You're forgettin', Doctor, that I _know_ you. You could've dealt with them with both your hands tied behind your back."

"Rose, it's not that simple."

"No, it's not. 'Cause you wanted this, didn't you? You wanted to fade away, to just… vanish. An' you didn't think about the people you were leavin' behind."

The Doctor stepped forward, his eyes dark with anger, and Rose bumped into the harsh bark of the tree behind her. "Is this really about them, Rose? Or is it just about you?"

Rose sobbed and tensed her arm for a Tyler slap, but the Doctor caught her hand before it could connect. "Fine. You want me to say it? I'll say it. How could you do this to me, Doctor? How could you just… give up like that?"

His hand tightened around her wrist even though the anger faded from his eyes, washed away by an exhaustion deep enough to drown in. "What did I have to keep going for, Rose? No matter how hard I try, it never gets any better. Wars still rage, ignorance still reigns, and I still lose everything I love." He dropped his eyes and Rose tugged her hand free to rest it against his cheek, swallowing as he leaned into her caress.

"It does get better, Doctor. You make it better." He snorted at that, and she lifted his face to look at her again. "You do. Can't you see how much you matter?" She gasped in a ragged sob and the tears she'd been fighting slid down her cheeks, leaving a trail of chilled skin in their wake. "Why would you _do _that to yourself? I never want to see you in that much pain again."

The Doctor looked away, his jaw tight. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

"Yes, I should've." She chuckled damply and wiped a hand across her eyes. "Just goes to show, you're useless without me."

His voice was quiet and serious when he responded. "I am."

She looked back into his eyes and bit her lip, a slow smile breaking across her face. "Good thing I'm not leavin' then, isn't it?"

In a rush of movement Rose found herself trapped between the tree and the Doctor, his arms wrapped around her in a crushing grip. She gasped and giggled breathlessly, her face tucked into his neck. "Y'know, just 'cause I've got a respiratory whats-it now doesn't mean I know how to use it."

He released her quickly, a soft flush heating his ears. "Right, yes. Sorry."

"Hey." She cupped his cheek again, peering up into his eyes. "You don't need to apologize."

The Doctor blinked down at her, his eyes darting down to her lips and back up. "Rose, may I…?"

She giggled against his lips as he bent down slowly, nervously. "You don't need to ask, you daft alien. You never did."

A quicksilver grin flashed across his face. "You're an alien too, now, remember?"

"S'pose I am." His lips met hers, and she closed her eyes and stopped thinking. It wasn't exactly comfortable—the early November air was quite chilly, and that blasted tree was digging into her back—but it was still the most perfect kiss Rose had ever experienced.

_That's because you're kissing a Time Lord_, a very familiar voice said smugly in her mind.

She gasped and broke the kiss, her eyes wide. "Was that you?"

The Doctor _preened_. There was no other word for it. "Telepathic, remember? Means I can do stuff like this—" he ducked his head and kissed her again, teasing her mouth with a single-minded intensity that stole the strength from her knees.

He released her mouth slowly, grinning down at the dazed expression on her face. He stepped back, his eyes bright with mischief, and laughed when Rose stumbled forward into him.

She blinked up at him. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

His grin turned positively wicked. "Oh, you can count on it." He glanced at the woods around them and grimaced. "Might be more comfortable somewhere else, though."

Rose laughed and picked up her suitcase, reaching out a hand for the Doctor and wiggling her fingers. He raised his eyebrows and took her hand, and she leaned closer and said one word. "Run."

* * *

><p>Mickey and Martha jumped to their feet as the doors to the TARDIS crashed open and the Doctor and Rose tore in, both laughing so hard they could barely stand. Mickey blinked. "Oi, Rose—you did notice that your bag's open, didn't you?"<p>

She looked down at the battered leather suitcase in her hand and the trail of clothes behind her and laughed even harder, collapsing onto the floor with a heavy thump. The Doctor joined her there, leaning against her back and laughing like a madman.

Martha was staring at them, looking utterly shocked. Mickey sat back down on the jump seat and shrugged at her ruefully. "Yeah, they got like that sometimes. Could get bloody annoyin' when I was tryin' to take a nap."

Rose looked up, still giggling. "Yeah, well you shouldn't've been tryin' to take a nap in the library."

He made a face at her. "Aren't libraries supposed to be quiet?"

The Doctor snorted and wiped his streaming eyes, snickering under his breath. "Since when has anything on this ship done what it's_ supposed_ to?"

Martha snorted, a reluctant grin pulling at her mouth. "Yeah, you would know."

The Doctor bounced to his feet, pulling Rose up against his chest with a soft look that made the breath catch in Martha's throat. "You going to go fetch your things, Rose?"

The blonde flushed and checked her suitcase, grinning a little at what she found. "Eh, all my Torchwood stuff's still in here." She grinned, her tongue poking out between her teeth. "Might as well leave the rest of it out there to confuse people—you never know, could end up bein' a good ghost story someday."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Oh, now you're just bein' lazy."

Rose spun and closed the door, giggling a little. "Never claimed otherwise."

The Doctor grinned at the three of them, his eyes bright and happy. "Now, then. Where do we want to go next?"

Martha cleared her throat, looking down at her clasped hands. "Actually, Doctor, London sounds good."

His eyebrows drew together and he began to fill in the coordinates, twisting dials and pulling levers. "Ah. Pop in to see the family, then? I don't blame you, it has been a bit—mind you, with a mum like Francine, a bit of a break seems a mercy." The TARDIS shuddered into the Vortex as Rose joined the Doctor at the console, her eyes poring over the familiar controls. They landed with a thump, and Martha bit her lip.

"It's not just a visit, Doctor." She swallowed. "This was just meant to be one trip, wasn't it? All the rest was just bonus. Travelling with you, Doctor, it's amazing. But it's not my life." She glanced at Rose and smiled crookedly. "Not like it is for some people. It's time for me to get out, Doctor. Still got a couple years to go on my training, y'know."

Mickey reached out and touched her hand, his eyes on the Doctor. "Might as well let me out while you're at it, boss."

Martha turned to stare at him, her eyes wide. "Really? But there's so much to see out there, so much to do."

He grinned at her. "I've seen my fair share, over the years. 'Sides, there's plenty to be done on the good ol' terra firma."

The Doctor was watching them with his brow furrowed, but when he opened his mouth Rose reached out and caught his hand. When he turned to look at her, she closed her eyes and concentrated. _They'll be good for each other._

His jaw dropped, and he stared at her for a moment before a slow smile began to creep across his face. _It might be nice to have the TARDIS to ourselves for a while._

A throat was cleared by the jump seat, and Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Oi, d'you two mind waiting until we're gone before you start all that?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Honestly." She glanced at Mickey. "Were they always this bad?"

"Near enough."

The Doctor scowled. "Oi! Right here, remember?"

Mickey grinned. "Yeah, now you know how we feel."

* * *

><p>They'd both apparently planned for this, Mickey and Martha—they were packed and ready to leave within minutes. The Doctor stood by the door as Martha and Rose hugged each other goodbye, Mickey at his side. The young man cleared his throat. "Take care of her, all right?"<p>

The Doctor blinked and focused on him. "I will, Mickey."

Mickey grinned at Martha and slung his pack over his shoulder. He glanced at the Doctor. "An' let her take care of you."

"Oh, he will." Rose hugged Mickey, blinking back tears. "Or else I'll get the TARDIS to throw out all the bananas."

The Doctor stared at her, horrified. "You wouldn't dare!"

She grinned and released Mickey, wiping her eyes. "Oh, just see if I wouldn't!"

Martha stood by the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She glanced up at the Doctor nervously, and he opened his arms wide. "Oh, come here, you." She laughed as he pulled her into a bear hug, pressing her bag tightly against her back. "Martha Jones. You were absolutely brilliant." He released her and clasped his hands on her shoulder, his eyes shining. "Where would I be without you?"

"Utterly lost, of course." She sniffled a little, biting her lip. "This isn't goodbye. You know that, right?" She looked over at Rose and grinned. "It's just see you later, that's all." She stepped out of the TARDIS, Mickey behind her, and set her bags down on her bed. "Until next time, then."

"Until next time." The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS and closed the door, walking back up to the console and sending it into the Vortex. He looked up at Rose and grinned. "Where to, Rose Tyler?" She strolled over to him, running a finger down his tie. One sharp tug pulled it out from under his jacket, and with a wicked grin she began towing him towards her bedroom. The Doctor gulped before a smile broke over his face, sudden as a summer storm. "Oh, _good _idea."

They didn't get around to leaving the Vortex for the next week.

FINIS

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read & reviewed! I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.**


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